


I Know You Think About Me

by disgruntledwing



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Batman has made him darker and he is trying not to be all over the place, Bottom Damian Wayne, Consensual Somnophilia, Dick is Batman, Dick is pretty back and forth here, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Somnophilia, Top Dick Grayson, Underage Sex, then Damian is horny for him so you can bet it'll go just swell, underage pining, unrequited requited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledwing/pseuds/disgruntledwing
Summary: Trying to juggle the weight of the cowl and Damian's increasingly obvious attraction proves to be just the job for one Dick Grayson.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne
Comments: 30
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just had an urge to write about Dick as Batman, where he is darker and more unstable - but it's subtle. I like the dynamic of Damian being the darker one and Dick being light, but I don't think it's that black and white. I want a gritty Dick that is getting weighed down by the cowl, and it makes him unstable. but he is still Dick, so it's back and forth. Writing this, he acts unstable sometimes, and he's a semi unreliable narrator, so keep that in mind. This is just a small itch I wanted to do - one day I want to really flesh out a whole story about the Dick Batman era with Damian and their growing relationship, because I have a LOT of feelings about slow burn ones in that era. But this is just a fun little dumb story until then. 
> 
> Once again, it's kinda hard to have Dick as Batman and Damian not be very underage. REPEAT - Damian is pretty underage since this is around the start of their era. This is your warning. I left it somewhat ambiguous, so you can make him as young or as old as you see fit (I have my own lewd preferences oops). In this chapter there is some sort of sex, but there will be the real important sex later. just something I've been working on and off when I'm supposed to be doing chemistry, so enjoy this sin. as always, comments are always welcome!! :^)

\---

The air was still and stifling, and any movement was incriminating. Dick sat perched atop the highest steel beam, hawk eyes trained on the floor down below. Sitting above the clinical LED panel lights, Dick hid in the inky black shadows. Green boots were barely visible beams away, and Dick didn’t bother glancing to make sure Damian was listening. He knew he would. 

Jonathan Crane, or Scarecrow, as he insisted to be named, had been flitting from rumor to rumor in Gotham, all talk of a looming setup. Tendrils of information spread throughout Gotham quick, but to Batman, ever quicker. Dick knew better than to not anticipate the worst, but he did not feel prepared to deal with Crane’s chaos at all. Mentally, Dick was eerily similar to his late mentor, feeling like every day he pushed his pain deeper and deeper every time he put on the cowl. Which was not without its consequences. Dick had found himself wired tauter than he had ever been in his life, thrust between the precipice of overwhelming grief and the most demanding sense of duty he’d ever felt that just festered under his skin. The mirror reflected a man he did not know. _Or too well._ Haunted eyes peering from dark circles, his hard jaw usually smooth marred with bristles and gaunt shadows, his mouth permanently set into a deep line. He didn’t want this, didn’t want the weight of the _cowl_ , and yet, it had been close to a year and he was already falling into the same hole he had tried to pull Bruce out of. On the beam he sat on, his muscles strained erratically, bent to the desire to _hit,_ to _destroy,_ to outlet his energy out onto the criminals below. The body always betrays first, and Dick’s body was adjusting far too quickly to the new life of shadows. Patience, Bruce would say. 

“Move that unit to squadron two, I think they need more of the gas. They’re for Bleake Island, right? Those sons of bitches aren’t getting any less than the rest. Hurry, too. I don’t know if we’ll have company.” 

“Scarecrow said no one knows about this place. I doubt it. But if he does, I wanna be in on it. Bat bitch can’t do nothing when a bullet is between his eyes!” The thugs laughed, making a show of a head exploding from a gun blast. Dick heard Damian’s teeth grind, seeing his green boots shift angrily. Dick looked over at him, shaking his head minutely. He couldn’t see Damian’s head, but he saw Damian’s hands ball irritably. Perhaps the only good thing recently was Damian’s sudden switch in obedience. Dick knew more than anyone how truly sacred that trust and respect was from the Robin, but he couldn’t truly appreciate it yet. He had other things on his mind. 

“Well, where is the boss? Maybe we _should_ try and get Batbitch here. We could take him.” 

Dick leaned forward, eager to hear the careless slip of Crane’s whereabouts. In the abandoned chemical plant, there was too much area to cover and too little time to go in without starting with Crane. _Come on. Say it._

“I don’ know. Didn’t he say we shouldn’t talk about it?” 

“That’s different, we aren’t out in Gotham no more. _This_ is what he was talking about. The glory of it all. Maybe it’s a test, or proof that we aren’t just guns for hire. We are _smart._ We know we could do it.” The thugs considered this, their movement of the units halted. _Hurry the hell up._ The presumed leader pondered this, and chewed his lip in concentration. 

“You’re _right,_ you son of a bitch. That is exactly what he would want. He must be so busy he doesn’t have the time to think that we actually should bring the Bat here. Okay, Tommy, I want you to go tell the boss about our idea. He’s in Room B of Floor 5. Tell the guards Leo sent ya. I got clearance, and now I’m seeing it’s for a damn reason. I’m gonna think about exactly how we lure the Bat in. This is gonna work perfect.” 

_There we go._ Dick carefully walked forward on the beam, aiming to drop exactly in the middle of the circle of thugs. Damian swung over excitedly, and Dick almost reprimanded him before he realized that he hadn’t made a sound. He was starting to truly appreciate Damian’s skills, now that he was letting them talk instead. Once Damian landed right next to Dick, he looked up earnestly. Dick counted to three in his head before diving down. Damian jumped a millisecond after. 

Sending smoke pellets down before him, Dick dove down to crash into the thug leader, black boots slamming the thug into the concrete. Damian threw batarangs up to destroy the light panels, cloaking them under the darkness. Dick’s night-vision clicked on, and he charged at the thug next to him. Punching him across the jaw twice with a twisted uppercut, Dick flipped back before the body thudded. The screams of the thugs rang out, calls of _“Fuck! It’s the Bat!”_ flooding Dick’s ears and pushing him to fight harder, to live up to the fear that hung on each utterance of the Batman. Shots lit up the room, and Dick covered himself with his cape, deflecting the spray of bullets. The smoke was starting to clear, but Dick counted only a couple more thugs - easy play. Under his arm, Dick pinpointed Damian swinging up to a beam to avoid the spray, and then diving off towards the source. Anticipating Damian’s success, Dick turned and rushed forward to the next thug, sweeping big black boots under his feet and finishing him with a sharp crack of his elbow. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw Damian pulling on the gunner’s neck, but a unit of the fear gas was flying in the same direction. Dick’s eyes widened, the speed and weight of that unit would surely either crack Damian’s head or break and release fear toxin.

“ _Robin!”_ Dick yelled, ducking to avoid a thug’s punch, before running to tackle the gunner with Damian on top. Damian grunted in surprise, spilling back awkwardly, while the unit of fear toxin hit Dick straight in the back, stumbling him. _Fuck._ White hot pain raced up Dick’s spine; he hadn’t tensed in time to absorb enough of the blow and he felt winded, every step he took coming closer to the ground. 

“Batman!” Damian cried out, darting forward to catch Dick before he fell. Dick grit his teeth, hot breath exhaling onto Damian’s anxious face. “Are you okay?” Damian asked hurriedly, eyes darting back to catch the thugs getting up to chase after them. _No._ “Yes.” Dick inhaled sharply, mentally rebuilding his sore body that he had been pushing too far. _Ready._ “Watch my six. Check for any runners.” Dick hissed, turning and broadening his shoulders despite the burning pain he felt every time he inhaled. 

The smoke cleared. Dick stepped forward into the closest security spotlight, and the charging thugs faltered. _Here_ was Batman in all his glory. Dick stood tall, his black gauntlets opening his cape. Black shadows hung under his white lenses, hiding them, and he looked every bit like the legend before him. Dark gray armor lined with black looked impenetrable and menacing, and the cowl looked demonic under the darkness that clung to it even in the light. Dick felt the all-consuming energy again, the dark feeling that made his heart thunder and his muscles strain so hard they wanted to peel off the bone, the obsession that he had been fighting ever since he put on the cowl. He _hated_ it, hated how the cowl hung so heavy in his soul, but it kept him afloat just barely, just enough to be a desperate and thrashing animal. And in moments like this, he felt more like Bruce than he ever did. Because he _wanted_ it. 

One of the thugs hesitated, his legs failing, and he fell forward, eyes widening in fear. The other moved forward carefully, brandishing his pistol nervously. The last, and perhaps the least intelligent, charged forward with a yell. Dick stood eerily still, and then snapped forward, black fingers choking the thug. The thugs brown boots left the ground, his legs kicking out wildly, while he choked for air. 

Dick looked up at the man, watching him squirm and thrash. He felt the surge of bile rising in his throat, the telltale sign that always eventually came when he did something he wouldn’t do as Nightwing. Dick pressed the pressure point at the base of the thug’s neck, who tensed before his head lolled. Dick dropped the man, looking up at the rest of the thugs, who dropped their weapons and stood with their hands up. Dick strode forward, reaching in his utility belt for handcuffs, and he cuffed all the thugs to a large pipeline. Shifting back, Dick finally noticed Damian’s intense gaze. _That look._ Dick winced internally, there was that look again. The look that Damian gave him whenever he was _dark._ It made Damian still, watch him reverently so openly. Dick hadn’t the time to truly process the depth of Damian’s admiration that had just developed recently, but he had a sinking feeling that it was far more than he had ever anticipated. Damian had been trying harder and harder every day to impress _Dick_ now, which was a new development, and Dick found himself finding a reprieve in Damian’s company. He hadn’t given that much thought to him, or why Damian was playing nice. _Another time._

Damian shook his head, striding back to help pull the other unconscious thugs over. Dick made a mental note at the floor they were in, so after he dealt with Crane he could safely send the GCPD in. _On to Crane._ As soon as Damian cuffed the last thug and locked the doors around them, effectively sealing off the production line for the fear toxin units, Dick grappled up to the beams again. 

“Time for Crane, Robin. Ready?” Dick looked over his shoulder. 

“Of course I am. Are _you_ ?” Damian said arrogantly, catching Dick’s eyes briefly. Dick smiled despite himself. Damian’s incredible modesty was starting to be less grating, and Dick found his heart swelling at the oddest of times. It probably had something to do with the way Damian, upon catching Dick’s smile, flushed and cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. Rolling his eyes, Dick leapt off the beam to the vents, on the way to Floor 5. _Another time._

\---

The ship’s cargo vent Damian was crawling through really couldn’t have been any dirtier, he thought grumpily. He could hear Crane taunting Dick, and every couple of feet, Damian could peek down and see him crouched in a battle stance. Dick had sent him off before Crane had caught sight of Damian, guessing that the fear toxin source would be in the vent system and needed singular attention. Damian waited patiently in the vents while Dick suffered Crane’s monologue, until a subtle double tap of Dick’s boot to the right, and Damian knew which direction to worm towards. Hence, why Damian was wriggling in a too small vent to try and isolate the source before Crane unleashed his own special hell on everyone. _All in a day’s work._

“A welcome is due, indeed, _Batman_. I wasn’t aware we had made an appointment, but who am I to deny Gotham’s caped crusader?”

“Don’t waste my time, Crane. Give me the fear toxin trigger.” Dick growled. 

Crane tutted, his hood lifting to show sunken eyes and decaying flesh. Yellow eyes flashed, and he stood rigid, arms open, needle fingers glinting against the fluorescent light. “Don’t be foolish. I’m liberating this cesspool of a city, letting you all truly see what makes you tick - _fear_ . but I’m sure you know all about that. A creature of the night. A giant _bat_ .” Damian rolled his eyes. Gotham sure wasn’t devoid of the world’s most dramatic villains. No matter how many times they got caught and sent back to Arkham, they always truly thought that _this_ time would work. “And yet, this giant bat looks and sounds a little different. Yes - I noticed. You’re different. Not just physically - but mentally. An _imposter._ No matter. Batman or not, you are not immune to _fear._ ”

Dick ground his teeth, stepping forward. “You talk as if I won’t put you back into Arkham all the same. You’re demented. You’re done.” Dick snapped. _Just like we say every time._ Damian sighed, before snapping his mouth shut when a mercenary looked curiously up at the vent above. 

“Ah, like your predecessor, you wield anger as your weapon. Poorly. It doesn’t suit you the same. But where does anger start? Anger is because we are _afraid_ . Fear is why you’re angry, and I want to know what makes this _Batman_ tick.” Crane hissed, and he nodded to the mercenaries in front of him. A rush of mercenaries rushed forward, and Damian watched Dick take on countless thugs. Unlike Damian’s bulkier father, Dick was naturally flashier, his acrobatic body cutting through the air with the thick black cape tearing behind. But that was where the likeness to his old persona stopped - Dick as Batman was hitting harder, his moves far more brutal. Damian could see the change twisting Dick’s good nature, but it excited him. He saw Dick’s slow descent into the darkness of the cowl, and it made Damian realize Dick’s talents. His _skill,_ his potential, mixing his natural unmatched acrobatic talents with the gritty power of Batman. But really was it changing his nature? Or just _unlocking_ a part of him he didn’t know about? _That_ thought excited Damian to no end. It had been Damian’s first wake up call to really notice the man before him. Damian was not stupid - he was painfully aware that his eyes had always stayed longer on Dick’s form. But realizing Dick’s true skills and potential were just as impressive..well - _that_ made him reconsider the depths of his admiration. 

_Gotta hurry up._ Damian afforded moving a little quicker now that the room was loud enough with the sounds of bones cracking and grunts beneath him. Damian pulled himself around the corner into a small ventilation room, and caught sight of the fear toxin tank, poised to empty out into the vents below. Out from the vents, Damian was on an elevated plane above the fighting, with the walls open down to the drop below. In his peripheral, Damian saw the Gotham coastline to his left, the sounds of the rushing water around the cargo ship they were on becoming white noise. Under his boots, Damian could see the chaos beneath him. Dick was valiantly holding off the endless wave, but Damian could tell from the way his white lenses darted up towards the vents he was wondering what was taking so long. Surging forward, Damian pulled the connecting tube out and quickly turned the valve off. _Quickly, before the -_ The tank whistled, red buttons blinking, and Damian hissed, realizing he hadn’t closed it precisely enough not to turn on the automatic warning detonation. A green haze shot out of the top, and Damian doubled back, panicking. _Don’t breathe, fuck._ He turned to grab the mask in his utility belt, but the haze had reached up into his face already. Damian coughed, trying to put the mask on still, but the swinging fluorescent lights above him were darkening quickly, and his vision blacked. 

He felt himself laying down, on the sheets of the manor master bedroom. The sheets were rife with Dick’s heady scent, and Damian’s pulse picked up automatically. He opened his eyes carefully. The room was dark, the windows barely letting in the white glow of the moon. Tall ceilings grew higher and higher into black, and the ornate decorations looked dustier than ever. The four-poster bed covered Damian in shadows. He had never really been in the master bedroom bed. Several nights recently he had come close, hovering outside the door to Dick’s room and wondering why it was _so_ easy for his body to beeline to Dick’s room as soon as he had a nightmare. He had never touched the door knob yet. He’d just sit there, comforted by the fact that Dick was only feet away. 

Damian’s eye finally caught Dick’s form against the opposite wall. As Dick stepped forward out of the shadows, his face dark. Blue eyes looked black, his jaw tight, and he looked furious. Damian opened his mouth to ask what he was doing. _Something is wrong_ . The air felt charged, electric, like Damian had ruined things already just being there. What _were_ they doing? _What’s wrong? What did I do?_

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked slowly, pretending the sight of Dick angry didn’t make his chest tighten. Dick looked down at him, his blue ice chip eyes looked colder than Damian had ever seen them. 

“Something wrong?” Dick echoed. “Maybe you finally caught up. Maybe I finally don’t have to hold your fucking hand anymore. I’m done. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving you Robin. You don’t deserve it. You’re twisted. Evil. You can’t be redeemed. And that’s not even all of it. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Fucking _sick._ Fucking _disgusting._ ”

Damian’s head snapped back like he had been slapped. “Done? But I’m _Robin._ You’re Batman. I _deserve_ it. I’ve done what you asked! And I don’t even look at you, well I just, I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t...I haven’t _done_ anything!” Damian finished hoarsely. 

“You never should have been Robin. Like I can’t tell what you want when you look at me? When you hover outside my door? Admit it. You want me. Sick little fuck. I can’t even look at you.” Dick said, turning back to look out the window. Damian looked down at himself, and saw that he was naked. What the fuck had he done? Did he do this? Never had he _acted_ on any impulse before, but how else could he explain this? He couldn’t remember how he got there, and his worst nightmare he had never even considered was happening. _I’m not Robin. He’s disgusted by me. He doesn’t want me._ Damian blinked back tears that threatened to come out. _You’re done_ and _I can’t even look at you_ rattled in Damian’s head, and he felt his throat close up. _That can’t be Dick. Dick would never say that to me_ . Doubt pricked Damian, and he felt like he could only process one thought at a time. His head spun, and it felt like everything around him was falling, like the ground beneath him had dipped and he was in free fall, but there was nothing free about it. He felt like his stomach was in his mouth, and Damian felt his skin crawl with fire and he yelled out, scurrying back on the bed. Damian’s vision swam, and he saw his heart rip out of his chest, ribs splintering open to reveal the seizing organ. _This isn't real. It’s not real. It’s the fear gas. I’m under the fear gas._ Dick’s sneering laugh rang through Damian’s head, and he closed his eyes tight and focused on breathing despite the pain breaking his body open. _Dick wouldn’t say that. That wasn’t Dick. It’s not real._

Suddenly, all of the agonizing pain vanished, and Damian’s skin felt raw in its place. He opened his eyes and took in the scene before him. He was on the rooftops of the Bank of Gotham tower. The night was hot and humid, the yellow orange glimmer of Gotham’s skyline bleeding into the inky black of the night. Thugs, _corpses_ , Damian amended, were everywhere, charging him and Dick next to him. Dick was in the cowl, cape billowing out, his muscles taut under gray kevlar. He was glowing from the exertion of the fight, sharp teeth visible. His grimace twisted into a small smirk when white lenses caught Damian, and Damian felt his heart stutter. 

“Ready, little prince? Let’s show ‘em what the best duo in the world has to offer.” 

Damian gazed after Dick, charging into the thug-corpse crowd with a laugh, and Damian felt his heart magically appear in his chest again, pounding harder than ever. Dick hadn’t called him “little prince” in awhile, and he seemed more comfortable in the suit, still just as powerful but perhaps not as tortured as normal. The familiar flood of adrenaline coursed through his body, and Damian grinned, darting forward. He ducked as one thug sent a punch forward, kneeing the thug’s head and throwing him back. Damian flipped back, throwing batarangs out to two running thugs in the air, before landing on the neck of a thug that was about to jump on Dick. Dick was flipping, rarely on the ground, shattering jaws with his black boots. He ran up to vault off a vent, and Damian, along with the other thugs, watched as Dick flew through the air. He slammed three thugs into another vent, and quickly the number of enemies was dwindling. Damian kicked the feet out from under his last couple of thugs, relishing the way that they fell backward with a grunt. Feeling excited and cocky, Damian twisted in the air, sending a powerful kick to knock out all three of them sequentially. He landed lightly, and looked over at Dick, who was straightening up with a small smile. 

“Easiest thing I’ve done all day.” Dick smirked, walking over to Damian. He laid a black gauntlet on Damian’s neck - the most possessive touch he had ever given Damian. Damian leaned back into it. 

“Easiest thing I’ve done all _week._ It’s rather insulting, really, to send us that. _Although_ , I think I may have finished more than you. Perhaps this is proof that I, in fact, am -” 

“- a little brat. You wish. But, no, really. We make a good team, kid.”

“The best.” Damian amended, looking forward to avoid Dick’s growing grin. “Yes. The best.” Dick echoed warmly. Dick’s gloved hands traveled up slowly to sift through the base of Damian’s hair, and he instantly felt the familiar tug in his stomach. Dick pulled Damian closer, his large hands turning to angle Damian’s head up to expose his neck. Damian stopped breathing, not really able to process that this was _happening._ Was Dick going to kiss him? Dick stepped forward further into Damian’s space, the cape pooling over his and Damian’s boots. Tilting Damian’s head, Dick leaned forward, hot breath fanning onto the skin below Damian’s ear. _He is. He is going to._ Dick’s hand tightened forcefully and Damian exhaled forcefully, his cock twitching excitedly. Dick leaned forward, his broad shoulders looming in Damian’s peripheral. Damian’s eyes shut and he wet his lips. As soon as Dick’s lips were on his skin - Damian wasn’t going to hold back. He was going to twist and slam into Dick, _beg_ him to take him right on the rooftops. He was going to _have_ Dick. Damian waited, shaking with anticipation, his hips already bucking slightly. 

A scrape sounded behind them, and Damian turned around to catch the last moment of one of the thugs on the ground brandishing a gun. _That can’t be. No one had a gun._ The crack sounded before Damian could even register what was about to happen, and he felt Dick stumble against him. Blood spattered onto Damian’s face, the hot wave of iron that had never bothered Damian before, and he felt as if he was in slow motion. He turned, watching Dick gurgle out blood, face pulled back in shock, muscles straining to try and hold himself up. It looked so _wrong_ to see him in the cowl, staggering back clumsily, strong arms going up weakly. Damian choked, paralyzed with fear, this unholy truth he never even considered to actually ever happen, that Dick was going to _die_. Damian distantly felt his legs buckle, and his knees thud against the rooftop with Dick’s weight, as he watched the life die out of Dick’s body. 

His body burned, every part of his being felt _wrong_ , like his body was splintering from the inside out, because this was _wrong_ . That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, that wasn’t _possible_ . Damian looked down disbelieving, and it struck him that this was real. It was _real_ , and Dick was _dying_ , and he would be left all alone, and his entire heart was dying right in front of him and all he could do was cry.

“No, no, no. Dick, please. No, you can’t go. You can’t go. _Dick_ , please, I can’t,” Damian ground out, voice breaking. Dick coughed, blood burbling out, and Damian saw the crimson wave flowing out of Dick’s neck. Suddenly, the iron smell hit Damian’s nose, and he felt his stomach clench; blood had never bothered him in the slightest, but suddenly Damian felt like he was going to vomit just looking at it. Damian leaned down, sobbing, and held Dick’s head tightly to his, tears mixing with blood. Dick’s hands gave up trying to stave off the blood flow, and he leaned up to rake bloody hands through Damian’s spiky hair. White teeth stained with blood pulled back in a weak smile, and he choked trying to talk. Damian pulled Dick’s head into his lap, and he clamped on to Dick’s neck to stop the red wave. Desperation rushed through Damian, and his hands started shaking violently. 

“Please, I love you, you can’t die, you can’t go, please let _me_ , I can’t live without you.” Damian whispered, and Dick’s face went slack, his smile disappearing to show how much blood was bubbling out. _No. No. It can’t be. This can’t happen._ Damian crumpled, holding Dick’s head roughly against his own, sobbing into his hair and looking up around them through tears. Dick jerked, and Damian didn’t hear his steady heartbeat anymore. Dick’s breath tore out, blood pouring out from his neck and out his mouth. With shaky hands, Damian pushed his cowl back, freeing sweaty hair and Dick’s empty blue eyes. _It’s real. He’s gone. I’m alone._ Damian’s chest fractured, and he didn’t feel empty, he felt _fear_ , like everything was falling down on him and he couldn’t form a single thought long enough to distract him from feeling more afraid than he had ever in his entire life. Dick had died and Damian could already feel the heat of his body seeping into the night sky. _It’s real. It’s real. He’s gone. It’s real._

“Damian! Damian! Listen to me, you’re okay! Stop screaming, I’ve got you.” Dick snapped, shaking Damian roughly. Damian opened his eyes, and Dick in the cowl slowly filtered into view. His throat felt raw, and his muscles hurt from straining so hard. 

“ _No_ , _no_ , you don’t understand! You fucking...! You’re dead! They _killed_ you! I- I don’t understand, I can’t -” Damian choked, voice cracking. Dick looked down at him worriedly, hand coming up to hold Damian’s head up. 

“Shh, no, I’m _fine_ . I’m right here. You went under Crane’s fear toxin. It wasn't real. Repeat it in your head. Breathe. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. I promise.” Dick insisted. Damian’s head felt split open, his heart still _ached_ more than it ever had before. It wouldn’t _leave,_ Damian kept seeing Dick dying right in front of him. 

“No! You don’t fucking understand - shut up! Shut _up_! You don’t know what I saw!” 

“Hey, okay, maybe I don’t. I don’t know what you saw exactly. But it wasn’t real. You’ve been under fear toxin before. You’ve never reacted this poorly, but we can talk about that later. Just breathe and focus on my voice. Everything is just fine.” Dick said carefully, scanning Damian’s distraught face. Damian shut his eyes tightly, already feeling the rush of tears bent on coming out and embarrassing him. Twisting into himself, Damian burrowed into his cape and desperately tried to stop the unshakeable dread that just wouldn’t leave. 

Dick sighed, feeling like he really didn’t understand what the hell was going on. He had _never_ seen Damian like this, never had seen him so unstable. And he had said that he saw _Dick_ die. Dick still couldn’t truly come to terms with the severity of that admission. He might have been distantly aware of Damian’s admiration or sometimes wandering gaze, but this….this was very different. _Fuck._ Dick looked down at Damian’s shaking form, and his chest squeezed uncomfortably. Dick slowly gathered Damian in his arms and pulled him close into his lap, black cape enveloping Damian. As soon as Dick grabbed Damian he became stiff. But when Dick situated him on his lap, Damian relented and held him tight enough that Dick was grateful to be in his suit. Small choked sobs escaped from the mess on Dick’s lap, and he held Damian tighter. Placing his head over Damian’s head, Dick breathed in the familiar smell of Damian’s hair and hummed comfortingly. The white LED lights swung overhead, and the distant sound of police sirens signaled that the GCPD would be there soon to pick up all the thugs Dick called in. Slowly rising, Dick held onto Damian tightly and moved to grapple off into the night. 

\---

Dick sat at the BatComputer, fingers steepled and eyes heavy. Damian was sleeping on a nearby bench, his soft exhales distracting Dick’s work. He hadn’t typed anything in the last fifteen minutes, instead staring sightlessly at the screen. 

Dick felt like he was too emotionally splintered to really give this the appropriate attention, but he knew this time he had to figure it out. It was becoming insistently apparent that Damian might hold some form of...romantic affection for Dick. Dick wasn’t entirely inexperienced in this situation - he was aware that the other Robins had developed a certain attraction to him. Easier to never say anything about it and move on, in those cases, but with Damian...it felt different. It was _just_ them. It would just be them for who knew how long, and Dick felt closer with Damian than he had ever felt with the other Robins. Was that bad? _No. These are very special circumstances._ The thought of Damian holding any sort of romantic affection would’ve been laughable when they had first met. But as soon as Dick had given Damian space to figure everything out and instead focused on the weight of the cowl, Damian had switched like a light. No longer did he push back, or comment that Dick wasn’t Bruce and never would be. Gone were the days that Dick had to worry about Damian’s disobedience or loyalty. Dick frowned. Was he _that_ absorbed in his own problems that he never thought to acknowledge the weight of Damian’s change? 

Dick glanced over at Damian’s sleeping form, his cape spilling over the bench and kicking up dust anytime he moved. Alfred’s dinner for both of them laid uneaten and cold nearby; Dick had sent him off to think about this new problem alone. Alfred had only gone had he promised he ate, but the sight of food made him feel ill. _Damian should eat before the night’s done. Okay, focus. Let’s think._ So, what if Damian had a little crush on Dick? If it never came up again, then there would be no problem. Nothing could happen, _obviously,_ and it was most likely a passing crush just because Dick was constantly around him. Dick felt guilty, though, even he hadn’t done anything to indicate that that was okay. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to stop. What exactly did Damian feel? How deep was this crush? Did he just enjoy his presence, or was he attracted sexually? _Dear God. He is so young. This is wrong to even think about._ Damian was in some ways like his _son_ , and was in _most_ senses his little _brother_ . What would Bruce think if he knew about this? Dick’s throat closed up. He was the _adult._ He needed to make sure that this unfounded problem disappeared as soon as possible, and that Damian knew that it was wrong. Letting Damian indulge this problematic crush was irresponsible. Dick just hoped that it wouldn't ruin their entire dynamic he had been taking advantage of. 

Rising from his chair, Dick walked over to Damian’s form. Damian’s face was soft and open, much different from the normally pinched grimace he usually wore. Dick gently nudged him awake, and he almost smiled at the way Damian’s face immediately tightened. _No. Focus._ As soon as jade eyes flew open, they fervently searched for Dick. 

“Dick.” Damian breathed out quickly, his hands reaching up to grab Dick’s outstretched arm. 

“Hi, Damian. I think we should talk right now, if that’s okay with you. You can eat during. And then it’s time for you to go to bed.” Dick said slowly, arm tense under Damian’s small hands. Damian flushed, his gaze falling to the floor as he sat up. 

“Okay.”

Gently pulling his arm back, Dick turned to grab Damian’s plate of dinner and placed it on his lap. Dick wondered if it was too authoritarian to talk while he was standing - was this a punishment? Or just a talk? He crouched awkwardly, eye level with the spiky haired boy in front of him. _Okay, here goes nothing._

“So, Damian, I -” 

“Tt. I already know what you’re going to say. I don’t care. It isn’t dumb. Or temporary. I know that now. I _felt_ it. I won’t let it come up again. Let me have it, please. I already can barely look at you now because of what I saw. But I’m _not_ doing what I want to you. This is proof that I can control myself.” Damian promised. He looked at Dick challengingly, but openly, and Dick blinked, surprised at the intensity in his eyes. Dick’s mouth hung awkwardly, and his mind raced. Was that okay? He couldn’t force Damian not to have feelings, no matter how misguided. _Right? Or am I enabling you? Fuck, I don’t know, I’m going in circles._

“Er, uh, okay. What makes you so sure? This isn’t normal. I know you know that. Like it is _really_ not okay. Is there anything...that would help you not feel this way? I don’t think you really realize what you feel. Maybe you just feel like you don’t mind being around me, and that’s new for you. I really doubt that you actually -” 

“Grayson, you’re being absolutely _stupid._ Do you really think that I would feel something so trivial?” 

Dick grimaced. _Probably not, but. You’re just so young._ “No.” Damian confirmed irritably. “I fear that I shouldn’t go into details about why I feel the way I do. Do not question the depths of my devotion ever again. It is unbecoming of you. Following tonight’s events, I realize now that the depths of my devotion are of the highest caliber. That is why I will control myself around you still, to prove my love. And stop looking at me like that.” Damian snapped, his small frame tense. 

_Hello?! Love?_ Dick shut his mouth, and ran his fingers through his hair, distressed. And how did he lose control of this conversation so quickly? _I am the goddamn adult here._

“Well then stop _talking_ like that. I am the adult here. If you weren’t so damn stubborn, maybe we could talk about why you _can’t_ say everything you just said because you are a damn minor. No more of this. From now on, if it interferes with our work, we are going to have a problem. Understood?” 

“Understood.” Damian spat out viciously, getting up quickly. His platter of food spilled out onto the floor, but Dick was stuck looking at Damian’s face. He looked more _hurt_ than Dick had ever seen him, and Dick mentally replayed his words to see why it hurt so bad. He hadn’t said anything over the line, right? He was being firm but not mean. _Right?_

“Not once have you asked me about what I saw. You’re so worried that you’re not doing everything perfectly, that you’d make Father disappointed, when you just need to be _you_ and then you’re perfect. Instead, you’re just wrapped up in your own stupid head and you don’t even care that the thing I fear most in the world is losing you. Fuck you, Richard.” Damian hissed, tears at the corners of flashing emeralds. Dick faltered, Damian’s words sinking in. Damian spun around and stalked off to the Cave stairs, Dick staring after him. 

“Ah, fuck. What am I doing?” Dick muttered, hands going to his face. Dick sank down in the BatComputer chair. Damian was _right._ He was so worried that it was _wrong_ and _immoral_ when nothing even happened, and he never stopped to think about how traumatic it must have been for Damian to experience that - whether or not his crush was unfounded. _Damn. I need to relax. This is finally catching up to me. I’m losing myself in this._ Dick breathed out, looking down at his black gauntlets. _Nothing even happened. It’s only wrong if I do something or encourage it. He’ll grow out of it._ Dick growled, springing up with frustration. All his feelings that had been festering in his chest for months and months were burning in his chest, and he was _sick_ of it. _Sick_ of feeling like he wasn’t good enough, or he needed to do this or make this happen, that he didn’t deserve to be Batman, or that he always had to make the difficult call. Anger that Bruce had left him to this, anger at himself that he was losing himself in it. Dick felt so charged, like he finally had found the right opening to channel all his pain out. Stalking towards the mats, Dick knew he was going to explode if he didn’t let some of it out. It was better than sitting there and thinking of how he was a failure, or that he was burning every relationship around him needlessly. _No more of this. I am failing Damian. Bruce is gone. It’s time to figure my shit out._

\---

Dick looked down at Selina with half-lidded eyes. He was feeling stretched thin - all night he and Damian had been pulled to one part of Gotham only to rush to the other. Even though he felt like he had made substantial progress in processing his pressing problems now that he forced himself to sit and really _think,_ Dick still felt like he had to focus very hard not to let his poor temper show. Admittedly, he was smiling more freely, and cracking jokes every once in a while to Damian as if he was Nightwing once more, but he was realizing that this deep heavy weight of the cowl wasn’t ever going to truly leave him. 

“I’ve heard that Penguin is going in on the same warehouse, sending those guns to the underground. Penguin’s newest club is manned by his men - you know, that bunch that just broke out of Arkham. Their code order is a rose gin martini on the rocks. That’s what the supposed mob boss of interest is supposed to say. But you didn’t hear it from me. Thanks for helping me get what’s _rightfully_ mine...You know. It’s funny. If I close my eyes I can just pretend like you’re him.” Selina finished wistfully. 

“ _Yours?_ You mean you blackmailed us into coming to your aid just so you can get a shitty statue that isn’t even yours at all. I could've found out your precious intel in my sleep.” Damian scowled, glaring at Selina. Selina smiled, her hands flexing to show long sharp claws over fingernails. Green eyes looked interestedly down at the Robin, and full lips pulled into a grin. 

“I didn’t forget about you, brat. Dickie here is a little too nice to remind me completely of your father, although he’s just as nice on the eyes. But you, little one. You look _just_ like him. Even tell me off the same way he did. God, I _miss_ that man. I already know you’re gonna look just like him. Look, kiddo. Give me a call in a couple of years. I’m owed for all this sad time I have to be mourning by myself. I do have an insatiable taste for Wayne men.” Selina said sultrily, hand going forward to frame Damian’s face teasingly. 

Dick’s black hand shot out before he even knew what he was doing, and he held Selina’s wrist tighter than necessary. Irritation flared in his chest - was she _flirting_ with Damian? As if she could lay any real claim on this _child_ . This child that was _his_ responsibility. Dick’s teeth were grinding, and she looked back at him, surprised. Damian looked scandalized, gagging at Selina’s suggestion. 

“That’s enough, Catwoman.” Dick growled. He couldn’t explain why he had _so_ much adrenaline rushing through his body, when they were just having a conversation. But he felt furious at Selina, and wanted to pull Damian behind him and prevent her from touching him again. 

“Touchy, touchy. Bruce was always so fond of you when you were Robin. I suppose it comes with those pointy ears. Whatever. Either of you give me a thrill. Perhaps the only other people that could miss him just as much as I do.” 

“More.” Dick corrected forcefully. “Don’t touch him again. We’re done here - we have other places to be.” Selina’s eyebrows jumped, and she looked hard at Dick. “I see.” Selina looked in between the pair, eyes resting on the way Dick stepped closer to Damian. “Maybe I won’t ever understand the relationships you bats have with each other. Maybe I don’t want to.” Selina said, stalking off to the ledge of the roof. _Good riddance._

Selina gave them a quick wink before diving down off the ledge, the audible snap of her whip louder than the rush of traffic below. 

“I thought you liked Kyle.” Damian said curiously. _I usually do._

“She is a very volatile woman. I don’t agree with everything she does.” _Or wants to do._ Dick frowned.

“You’re angry. Why?” Damian asked, his head tilted. “Is it because of what she said about Father?” 

_Is it?_ What _had_ bothered Dick so much about that interaction? Part of what had helped Dick so much over the past several weeks was asking _why_ he was upset about anything when he was, and to try and deconstruct it. It was usually much simpler though; i.e, he felt like he wasn’t a good enough Batman when he didn’t get to save that civilian in time, and would Bruce have been able to save them? It was by no means easy, but with situations like that Dick could boil it down to statements - _I tried my best. Bruce always tried his best. I will train more to be better next time. That’s what Bruce would want me to do._ Things like that had allowed Dick to decompress the drowning weight of Batman and let him try and have some semblance of peace. It had shown too - he was learning to deal with the weight of the cowl but still remain Dick Grayson. It had also helped that Dick was more like his warm self when Damian had been very stiff initially; Dick had to coax Damian’s good graces out a second time after their earlier confrontation. But what was he so upset over? His heart was still beating too fast and his muscles had only relaxed when Selina had left. He wasn’t upset about her comments on Bruce - he always knew about their complicated relationship. No, it was something else. Was it that she was flirting with Damian? _Not for that reason._ It must have just been because Dick didn’t like that she reduced Damian just to an extension of his father. _Right?_ That sounded right. 

“She shouldn’t be talking to you like that. No one should be talking to you like that. You are more than your father, and not to mention that is entirely inappropriate for her to say. You will choose exactly who you want when it’s time for you to choose.” Dick grunted. _Uh oh. That feeling again._ He felt oddly around the notion of Damian choosing, but -? _I want him to choose well, and not be taken advantage of._

Damian hummed lightly, processing Dick’s words. He looked thoughtful, and like his mind was far off. “If it’s her supposed interest in me, it matters not what its origins are. It does not affect whatever my thoughts or feelings are. Nothing could.” Damian said lowly, jade eyes already sliding away from Dick’s face. He always looked away from Dick when he said things like that, almost like he couldn’t bear to see what Dick would do. And while that was good perhaps, because he was already moving on with the conversation, it had created this bubble of time to process Damian’s words privately. And recently Dick hadn’t been using that bubble nearly as effectively as he should - instead of his face hardening and him wanting to move on too, Dick felt...stuck in it. Like he was given this gift of a small window of privacy to hear Damian’s promises and just let it wash over him. It made his throat constrict and the pit of his stomach sink, but it wasn’t nearly as disgruntling as it should be. It felt almost _good._ He felt like he was the younger one, because he felt slowed from the admission while Damian was already onto other things, unbothered. 

“You will find exactly who you need to. There’s no rush.” Dick admonished lightly, but his heart wasn’t in it. Damian was already leaping towards the ledge, looking back earnestly, clearly ignoring what Dick had just said. 

“Hurry up, let’s go. We got bad guys to pummel.” Damian said imploringly, and the jolt of excitement that ran through his body when Dick nodded...it never failed to make Dick smile. 

“I’m aware of your accelerated academic career, but I must clarify: do you know what the word ‘patience’ means?” Dick asked teasingly, all irritable thoughts gone. That garnered a small twitch of Damian’s mouth. 

“I can’t say that I have. I was only taught the extent of everything that was important.” 

Dick snorted, walking over to join Damian on the ledge. “Interesting.” Looking down at the city below him, Dick breathed in the crisp Gotham air and felt his chest relax. “Hm....patience.” Dick echoed thoughtfully.

Dick edged towards the ledge, only his heels keeping him from falling. Impulsively, a voice in Dick’s head was asking him to test Damian. Damian had done nothing wrong back there with Selina, quite the opposite. But that interaction didn’t feel good, like it encouraged their partnership to not be as close. That was it. And he was his partner, damn it. _It’s important to be connected. As partners. I just want the best for our working relationship._

Dick jumped, his cape billowing out behind him as he turned to look up at Damian. Damian tensed to jump himself, but Dick clucked his tongue disapprovingly, eyes glued to Damian’s form. The blast of the wind around him almost seemed too loud for Damian to hear him, but Dick saw Damian strain to hear. _Test him. Do it._ Their gazes were locked, and Dick didn’t know _why,_ but it felt special, to have those emerald eyes locked on him. He felt like time was slowing, and they were just looking at each other, and it was so weird because it was something they’d done a hundred times but this time Dick felt like it was different. Damian was stiff on the ledge, every part of him leaning to jump after Dick, but he stayed still. _It’s like you can read my mind._ Dick fell farther and farther, starting to feel the need for the grapple, but he let it go one more second, finally nodding his head to Damian. Damian immediately dove after Dick, only grappling when Dick grappled as well, and they cut through the air to the next building. Damian’s inquisitive eyes were glued on Dick. Dick grinned, a small laugh leaving him as they swung. Maybe it was a power trip, to test him and see that he was bound to Dick’s words. Or maybe it was just the good feeling that someone else wanted to please him, and he wasn’t as alone in Gotham as he felt. Or maybe he just liked feeling connected with Robin - innocent enough. They were partners after all. At the end of the day, they had each other’s back, and that was true no matter what. Just a little test, that was all. 

_How high would you jump?_ The thought excited Dick too much to dwell on why. 

\---

The door creaked, and Dick snapped awake, hands up and eyes alert. The master bedroom was dark, and he could very barely see the door open. Damian’s head popped in, his emerald eyes shining in the dark. Dick relaxed, falling back down in the bed tiredly. Propping his head up, Dick looked over inquisitively. Damian had never woken him up in the night - something must have been wrong. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Dick rasped, hoping it would prompt Damian to talk. Damian inched in the room, his satin black sleepwear glimmering when the faint moonlight hit it. He looked incredibly shy, his eyes downcast. 

“Something wrong?” 

Damian nodded barely, his jaw tense. Dick frowned, pushing himself up. His chest was bare, but he was glad that for once he put on sweats before getting in bed. He took in Damian’s presence completely - he looked wired taut, like he was one breath away from bolting. His fingernails were digging deep into his crossed arms, and Dick could see that his lip was chewed bloody. _Damn, kid._

“Okay. I’m gonna take a wild guess here. Nightmare?” Dick asked gently, his hands splayed out on the sheets. 

“Several. Same ones I’ve had for weeks.” Damian finally admitted, his quiet voice softer than Dick had heard him be in awhile. _Weeks? I didn’t know that._

“Do you want to talk about them?” Dick asked slowly, feeling like this could be a dangerous question if they were what he was guessing they could be. But last time he had messed up and not asked - wasn’t it just being decent to ask about them? Clearly Damian wanted support if he came into his bedroom in the middle of the night. 

“You tell me I’m disgusting. Perverted. Not good enough. And then it changes. Then it’s good. About to be everything I want. And then you die, and I’m left all alone.” Damian said so softly Dick had to strain to hear him at all. Dick choked briefly, turning it into a light cough to avoid making Damian feel even worse. _Oh damn. The whole nine yards. Okay. Just stick to the facts. Don’t encourage it but don’t push him away. Show him that this could be platonic and just as good._

“Well, first of all, I could never think that about you. You’re not disgusting. I misspoke last time - it isn’t right, no. But I don’t blame you for it - it’s just something that can happen sometimes and it doesn’t need to mean anything. That’s the important part, okay? Nothing can happen about it. If anything, _I_ would be the perverted one but that’s not relevant. You _are_ good enough. You’re my Robin, and you’ve proven yourself to me again and again.” Dick emphasized. 

Damian looked up at him, his gaze piercing. He seemed hung on every one of Dick’s words, and Dick was reminded that he needed to pick his words very _very_ carefully around this boy; Damian had an incredible memory and Dick didn’t want to butcher this. “.... _and_ I’m not going to die. Nope. Not dying. You’re stuck with me around. Haven’t bit the bullet yet, and I’m not gonna. I’m too good for that. Simple as that. Okay?” 

Damian nodded fervently, his eyes drinking in Dick’s face. _Okay, uh._ “Well. Unless you wanna talk about it some more, I’m gonna hit the sack. I’m starting to get even darker bags under my eyes and that is not a hit with the ladies.” Dick joked mindlessly, before grimacing. Was that okay to say around Damian? He didn’t think he should police everything around the kid, or make it seem like Dick has never been romantically involved with someone else. But he did just have a nightmare... _okay I won’t say that next time, maybe._ “Kidding.” Dick added weakly, wondering what the hell he was doing sounding so lame and for no reason. He turned over, sinking deeper into bed and pulled the covers around him. It was so silent Dick thought Damian might have left, and Dick relaxed. 

“The first part of my dream is always in this room. I’ve never really been in it, and yet, it’s exactly like how it is in my dream.” _Oh, damn it all. You’re still here. The bedroom? I can’t talk about that._

“I’ll skip the details, considering our arrangement of ignoring my devotion right now.” Damian said primly, and he moved to get into the bed next to Dick. Dick froze, his eyes glued on Damian’s form as he got under the covers. Damian’s cold foot barely touched Dick’s leg, and he bit his tongue. Was _this_ okay? He had slept in Bruce’s bed sometimes growing up, but this felt like this really was a dangerous situation. Paralyzed with what to say or what not to say, Dick stared at Damian's profile as he settled into the bed, his hands folded properly over the covers. _You look like Dracula sleeping._ Damian closed his eyes and exhaled, all of the emotion leaving his face and leaving his face looking serene and relaxed. Once again, Dick felt like this was the bubble of time where Damian so easily cast out his devotion because he was so sure about it, and then Dick was left to pick up the pieces of why each time Damian said things like that he felt his heartbeat pick up. It couldn’t be...be _that._ But maybe he liked that he was the most important person to Damian. That didn’t mean he reciprocated, no, no. It just explained why every single time Damian confirmed that he still felt that way, Dick’s heart warmed. _Yes._

Dick pulled his gaze to the ceiling, counting the seconds between each one of Damian’s robotic breaths. His body ached to scoot over, but he remained rigid, purposefully sealing his mind off from _any_ thinking to ignore the smallest of twitches his cock made when Damian let out a breathy sound. 

_Big giant boobs. Giant boobs. Amazing pussy. Great ass. Giant feminine, beautiful, non-masculine boobs._ Dick scowled. Why the _fuck_ wasn’t that working? _Something else._ Dick shut his eyes and focused on what the Wayne stock was looking like that week. Surely that would be mind-numbing enough. 

\---

Dick shifted, his sore muscles protesting. His mouth was dry, and heavy eyelids didn’t want to open. Dick exhaled, enjoying the last moments of peace and comfort for the day. He opened his eyes, finally noticing the weight that he had thought was a pillow. Warm brown skin peeked under black satin, and Damian’s disheveled hair stuck up wildly. Damian’s back was pressed tightly against Dick’s front, Dick’s arm hanging off of his stomach, as if he pulled Damian closer in the night. Dick startled, scrabbling back. Only when he pulled away completely did he notice that he was insanely hard, his stomach clenching with the friction of dragging his cock off of Damian’s lower back. _Holy shit._

Dick swore, jumping out of bed and backing away. Why was he _hard?_ Now this was becoming a problem. This wasn’t something he could twist any other way - his boner had been _touching_ Damian. He knew it wasn’t just because of another warm body around; he was not doomed to wake up with a boner to just any mindless warm body. It meant something. Deciding that he was not going to waste time thinking on _why_ he felt a physical attraction to Damian, Dick knew that if anything, this made things simpler. Now he knew exactly what he couldn’t do, and that it was now both of their problem. It was Dick’s renewed responsibility to keep Damian at arm’s length, which meant no more of Damian saying passionate promises that made Dick’s heart flutter, no more easy touches, never again _sharing_ a goddamn bed. The stakes were different - shared, really, and this was not something Dick was going to fail. 

Dick headed into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door forcefully. He pulled off his sweats, pointedly looking away from the mirror that revealed his pressing boner. Walking softly to avoid his cock bouncing and having more dreaded friction, Dick entered the shower and turned on ice cold water. Feeling his chest compress and his lungs stutter, Dick eased himself into breathing normally, willing his body to understand how badly he needed normalcy. The tempting thought of pushing down the _why_ was banging excitedly, but Dick knew that that would just make it worse. Had he not been living recently with the proof that he _needed_ to understand the weight he was carrying? This was a new weight. 

_So why do I like the kid?_ Dick knew that it probably started from the pleased surprise he got whenever Damian made it so clear that Dick was the only person he would really listen to. There was no one more stubborn, or difficult to connect with. No one whose respect and love was harder to earn. _Just like your father._ Bruce could’ve been a part of it, that connection back to him, but Dick really never thought of Bruce when he looked at Damian. Damian was just _Damian._ He looked a lot like Bruce - strong jaw, sharp features, the same raven hair. But the rest was all Talia, all pretty and warm tones, glittering emeralds that pinned you to the spot. Damian _was_ attractive, and would grow up to be incredibly handsome; Dick would’ve been surprised if he wasn’t. He could map the boy’s face, he was so familiar with him. Perhaps it was because Damian often looked older, more mature. His face was always pinched grumpily, or pulled into a frown. He never grinned or laughed like any boy his age, like Dick could’ve at his age. It seemed contradicting to call Damian so young, when he talked more properly than Dick, had been through hell growing up, and so clearly did not fit in the mold of a young boy. _So maybe I’m attracted to him, but only because I don’t see him as a kid?_ But that wasn’t entirely correct. Dick still did see some flashes of kid in Damian, but not in the normal way. Not the foolish, silly way. In the _innocent_ way. Like how Damian didn’t know any of the graphic nuances that chased after Dick every time someone flirted with him. Or how Damian’s face softened every time he saw an animal. Times like that, when Dick always found himself smiling to himself and feeling so fond of the boy. Was he...attracted to that? To that innocence? That wasn’t good. But he couldn’t deny that the knowledge that Damian really was surprisingly innocent was such a taboo thought. One that begged him to delve further, _deeper._ His cock hardened slightly, and Dick hissed, hating how quick his body could respond. _Okay. So why would I like that?_ Maybe it was the power imbalance, or the fact that to dominate someone as fiery as Damian was alluring. Couple that with the fact that Damian had been his only close companion for more than a year, and then it was _maybe_ a little bit more understandable _._ _Alright, still absolutely deplorable Now, all of this is easy to grow out of if I just don’t do anything, and not let anything like that happen again._

The shower door clicked opened, and Dick turned to see Damian enter the shower. Dick choked, his hands flying down to hide his cock. Damian looked at him appraisingly, his jade eyes intense, before he turned and feigned nonchalance. He was naked, his much smaller body just getting under the spray of the water. They had seen each other naked briefly, just from changing in the Cave, but not like _this._

“You’ll catch flies with your mouth open like that. For efficiency’s sake, I am going to shower as well. Not that I mind your staring, quite the contrary actually, but I want the shampoo. Pass it?” Damian asked loftily, his eyes shut under the stream of water. Dick narrowed his eyes angrily. _Little brat._

“Get. _Out_.” 

“I’m not familiar with that brand of shampoo. Don’t be so difficult. I’m not even _looking_ at you, so your supposed trauma that you’re already constructing in your head isn’t even viable. I’m behaving.”

Dick scowled. His eyes finally pulled down to finally take in the sight before him. Damian was significantly shorter than him, his small muscled arms rippling with his washing movements. Small but powerful thighs led to a toned small ass, and Dick winced at the speed that a voice in the back of his mind whispered that he _touch it._ Dick ripped his gaze up before he saw the outline of Damian’s hardening cock, and he snapped his head up to the ceiling. _Nope. I’m not fucking doing this shit._

Dick shuffled around Damian, making sure there was a wide berth between their bodies. Grabbing the shower door roughly, Dick squeezed out. His temper spiked when his now semi-hard cock was crushed between him and the shower door, and Damian’s eyes caught the movement. Damian flushed, his eyes bulging slightly, before he looked away quickly. Dick growled, finally squeezing out.

“Really, these theatrics are unnecessary. You still have shampoo in your hair, Dick.” 

“Well, you’re to blame, brat. I’m not showering with you, damn it.” Dick snapped, slamming the shower door shut and looking around for a towel. 

“Suit yourself. You’re being incredibly immature. You don’t see me having a tantrum just because I have an erection. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to do anything in this house.” Damian said lightly, the barest of smirks on his face. _Oh, you fucking little piece of -_

“This is _entirely_ different. I was thinking of a very _beautiful,_ red-headed woman, thanks. Her boobs were just fucking _giant._ You interrupted my fantasizing about a sexy fucking _woman._ Okay? That’s it.” Dick hissed.

“Oh, of course. Perhaps this morning’s erection was for her too? I mean, it was on _my_ ass, but I wouldn’t want to assume anything.” Damian smirked, having far too much fun. Dick’s eyes flitted down to Damian’s naked form through the shower glass, and he saw Damian’s proud erection. Dick shut his eyes and his hands flew up to pull at his hair. Dick groaned in frustration, storming out of the bathroom. 

“Oh, Master Dick! Are you okay? You look positively _terrible_ , sir.” 

“I’m _fine,_ Alfred! I’m fucking _perfect!_ ” Dick yelled, and Damian laughed to himself. Damian knew that he probably pushed Dick too far, but it was so hard not to push even harder. Waking up to Dick’s scent and powerful arms surrounding him...his thick cock pressed up against him. Damian still couldn’t really believe it was real. He guilted Dick just enough to let him sleep there, and then waking up to _that?_ Still, it hadn’t been truly bliss until Damian had heard Dick’s muttering in the shower about him. Dick _had_ been thinking about him, and so really, what could he do? He couldn’t sit there grinning like a fool outside, or leave, when he had Dick possibly wanting him _back_ so close. Pushing other people’s buttons came very naturally to Damian. And Dick just needed a _little_ bit of pushing. Otherwise, they weren’t gonna get anywhere with his stupid moral superiority. No, this was better than anything Damian could have hoped for. He had never thought it could be reciprocated - at most, he thought that he could condition Dick to just not mind it. _And here we are._ Damian grinned harder, feeling like his face was going to split. _You know...I could._

Damian glanced at the entrance to the bathroom, seeing the door wasn’t really shut. He was sure Dick wouldn’t come back, and Alfred was unlikely to intrude. _I’ll just have to be quiet._ Damian shut his eyes, trying to recreate what he woke up to. Small hands snaked down to grasp his hard cock, and he pumped himself slowly. He was new to this - having a very steep learning curve that was only helped by extensive online research. He had always felt this tightening of his stomach around Dick, and recently he discovered exactly what to do about it. The fantasy started to form before his eyes, and his heart pounded excitedly. Dick would pull him closer, the stubble on his chin scratching the back of Damian’s neck. Damian would stiffen, goosebumps lining his whole body. Large hands would roughly grab Damian, flipping him on his back. 

“My little Robin.” Dick said gruffly, his lust filled eyes making it hard for Damian to remember how to breathe. He loomed over Damian, his broad shoulders boxing out the morning light. His bare chest marked with scars tensed as he pushed himself closer, leaning down. Without breaking eye contact, Dick kissed the underside of Damian’s jaw, dragging chapped lips over his throat. Damian inhaled sharply, every part of him afraid to break the spell. Kisses that turned rough pulled and nipped at Damian’s soft skin, and he knew he would have hickeys if he was lucky. A moan caught at the back of Damian’s throat when hands Damian had spent what felt like lifetimes looking at, covered Damian’s hardening cock. Dick’s fingers slipped under black boxers, and Damian shut his eyes when Dick finally touched him. Heat raced all throughout his body, his stomach already clenching painfully, and Damian knew that he could come right there and they hadn’t even kissed yet. Damian’s breaths grew shorter, and he was too far gone to be embarrassed at the desperate sounds he was making. 

Damian groaned as Dick pumped him roughly. He was already so worked up. “Hurry.” Damian urged desperately, needing things to move a lot faster. Dick’s pupils dilated, and he looked even more predatory. “Please.” Damian whined. Dick’s brows furrowed, and Damian knew that the novelty of him saying “please” might never wear off for Dick. Dick’s hand continued to pull at Damian’s cock, while his other pulled at his satin top. He heard the pop of each button, as Dick slowly pulled them apart. Heard them, again and again, pull apart to give Dick access. Damian felt like his skin was on _fire,_ everything was too slow and too teasing and he just wanted something for real. Damian grunted, twisting away from Dick’s ministrations. Dick’s hold on him tightened, and ice chips flashed dangerously. Damian felt his lungs stutter - _God,_ that look. That dangerous fire was everything Damian wanted. Damian tried to wriggle down so he could suck Dick’s cock, but Dick’s hands raised to hold him by the neck. “I didn’t tell you to move.” Dick’s low voice filled Damian’s head, bouncing around and around in his head. _Focus. Keep going._ “I want to _suck_ you, fool.” Damian breathed irritably, renewing his efforts to go down. Dick’s face hardened, and his fingers squeezed harder around Damian’s neck. He pushed Damian against the headboard and stood, his intimidating form taking up all of Damian’s vision. Dick’s hand went down to card through Damian’s hair, finally pulling it roughly to bang his head back. With his other hand, Dick slid off his sweats, his cock springing free. Dark hair trailed down from his muscled stomach, down to his thick dark cock. Damian swallowed carefully, ignoring the small prick of unease in the back of his mind. Dick was so massive - and he was so _young._ Dick tipped Damian’s head back and pushed forward to slide his cock into Damian’s open mouth. It was velvet soft, the bitter taste tasting so _masculine,_ that Damian moaned around the intrusion. His mouth stretched to fit Dick in, and he gagged when Dick hit the back of his throat so soon. Dick’s face looked dark above him, his handsome face tight. Damian ignored his gag reflex and pushed forward, hollowing out his cheeks. Damian’s hot tongue wrapped around the head of Dick’s cock, teasingly. Tears streamed down flushed cheeks and a spurt of pre-come shot down his throat. Dick’s fingers tightened in Damian’s hair, and he started thrusting, Damian’s head knocking back on the headboard. The rhythmic sound of Damian’s choked gasps and the sound of Dick’s cock entering that slick heat filled the air. 

Dick pounded deep into Damian’s throat, snot streaming out of Damian’s nose, and he came with a grunt. Pulsing into Damian’s mouth, Dick bucked jerkily against him, and Damian struggled to swallow everything, eyes locked with Dick. Dick groaned Damian’s name, his blue eyes looking down at Damian in wonder - like he _loved_ him more than anything else in the world. Damian felt the ripple of tension down his body, and his untouched cock spurt wildly. He whined around Dick’s slowly jerking cock, and hot spurts of come filled his satin pants. 

“Damian! Hurry the _fuck_ up. We have an Enterprise meeting in thirty minutes. And wash off your _you know what_ in that damn shower! I know what you’re doing in there!” Dick yelled through the door. Damian startled, coming back from his fantasy. His legs were straining, toes scrunched, as the last of his orgasm pumped out to cover the tiles in front of him. Hearing Dick’s voice, his _real_ voice, was far better than even his reverie, even though _this_ Dick was dark and angry for a far less hot reason. _Hmmph._

“I’m not a savage, Grayson. I have _manners._ I’ll be ready in a minute.” Damian called out tonelessly. Reaching up to get some body wash, Damian moved to clean himself off. The scent overwhelmed Damian, and he inhaled deeply. _The very same body wash he uses!_ Damian grinned as he coated himself in the strong, masculine scent of pine that Dick had taken to wearing recently. _You’re just going to have to get over yourself, Richard. Now it truly is meant to be._

\--- 

Dick pushed against the swell of reporters, cursing the fact that the side entrance was closed and they would have to brave the most of the paparazzi. Yells of his and Damian’s name rang around Dick, and he put on his fake charming smile to hide how irritated he was. The morning had not gotten nearly at all how he wanted; Damian was in an annoyingly excellent mood, and Dick was not in the mood for more scrutiny. 

_“Richard! Richard! What do you have to say about your Bruce’s disappearance? Is he really just on a business trip? Can you give Gotham what we’ve all been asking?”_

_“As the new head of Wayne Enterprises, how is the future looking? Is it just you and Damian now?”_

_“Damian, has it been difficult with Dick stepping in to take over? What are your thoughts?”_

_“Have you guys been able to maintain social and romantic relationships during this hard time?”_

Dick’s grasp on his coffee tightened hard enough to dent the cup, and he struggled to control his breathing. _Relax._ They were all the questions that Dick knew had been floating around in Gotham, but since he hadn’t done any public events recently, there was little opportunity to grill them. Not to mention, he rarely brought Damian when he thought there might be some interaction with reporters, seeing as the first time a reporter addressed Damian, he almost got punched in the nose. But today was another official board meeting, and Dick had previously thought that it would be a good idea to transition Damian into the reins of the company. Young as he was, he was excellent with finances and carried the weight of the Wayne name well; Dick felt like he had too many things on his plate to manage the Wayne Enterprises full-time and he had very minimal interest. He might have taken advantage of Damian’s desire to impress and please, because all he had to do was emphasize how serious the job was and Damian accepted in a heartbeat. But _now,_ it just meant it was another chance to be far too close with Damian after such a difficult morning that Dick didn’t care at all if the Wayne Enterprises blew up and he never had to look at it again. Sadly, Wayne Enterprises looked right down at him, the giant skyscraper mocking his irritation. 

“I apologize, everyone, we don’t want to be late for a meeting. It’d be awfully unprofessional. Bye!” Dick called over his shoulder with an apologetic grin, and he pulled Damian’s arm behind him. As soon as they entered the crisp air of the lobby, Dick sighed tiredly. 

“I don’t see why you have to feign such ridiculous niceties. They are _parasites_. Do they have nothing else in their lives of interest?” Damian frowned, looking back at the desperate crowd that pressed against the lobby doors. 

“Don’t frown at them so _obviously_. They just started forgetting about that time you almost punched that guy. When you’re part of the Wayne family, there is nothing more interesting in all of Gotham. Come on, we gotta head up.” 

“How depressing. As if I would tell them anything. I wouldn’t care what they know, but I pity the person that would run to gossip with them.” 

“Why wouldn’t you care what they know? If they found out honestly anything about our lives, we would be ruined.” Dick looked over strangely. 

“Apart from those consequences, I care little what they think. I meant their judgement in other areas. There is nothing I feel that I am not proud of. That I would not bear freely to the world.” Damian said cooly, sharp eyes locking with Dick’s. 

“Inspiring.” Dick answered drolly, not rising to take the bait. He could see Damian’s desire to talk about _them_ from a mile away, but he was not going to let anything like that happen again. He just felt _tired,_ everything catching up to him and feeling like his chest had Bane doing jumping jacks on it. Dick watched as the elevator buttons lit up as they ascended, and he felt the inescapable feeling that he was trapped. What could he really say? Damian clearly knew that there was some reciprocation, no matter how unwanted. Damian was far from stupid, and _relentless._ Dick knew that he had an enormous problem. He couldn’t do anything about it - he didn’t even understand it completely. But that didn’t matter. Damian could push and prod, but Dick would remain firm. The rest of his dignity hung in the balance. 

The elevator door pinged, and opened. Dick straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair. _One thing at a time._ Dick stepped out of the elevator, greeted by the breathtaking view of the morning fog that hung over Gotham. Dark gray clouds dipped low between skyscrapers, and Dick felt the color was very fitting. Morally ambiguous gray was the name of the day it seemed. 

Dick turned to the table of executives and waved hello with a beaming smile. Damian trailed behind grumpily, his arms crossed and his face sour. 

“Hello, all. It’s been awhile. Today I’ve brought Bruce’s son and my b-brother, Damian. Shall we get started?” Dick’s breath caught barely on the word “brother” but he pushed forward quickly. The slightest twitch of Damian’s mouth signaled that his blunder did not go unnoticed. Dick stepped forward and ignored Damian's knowing eyes. _Little brat. Okay, eyes ahead. Get a goddamn grip, Dick._

"Okay, so let's talk details. Damian - just listen. No talking yet." Dick said easily, not ready to hear the way Damian would somehow make the stocks meeting a place where Dick would need to fight temptation. The executives nodded, dissolving into quick monologues about the state of affairs. Dick didn't hear a thing, he was so busy looking away from Damian, who was stretching dramatically. He was not going to let him ruin the whole morning.

"Are you sure you want that, Richard?" One of the older executives asked, looking oddly at Dick. 

"Oh, of course. Continue." Dick said mindlessly, waving his hand.

"Are you sure? Pulling those funds might topple our branch in West Gotham. You signed off on that last week but I fear that it might not be the best idea."

_Oh._ "Oh. My apologies - that is correct. I am not trying to do that - did I really sign off on that?" Dick asked dumbly. The older executive nodded awkwardly. 

"Ah. No, I don't want to do that. I apologize again - I've been under a lot...a lot of _stress_ recently. I care a lot about these finances, don't worry." Dick lied. "Please continue. You have my full attention."

_Jesus, this is so fucked. All because of you, you little brat._ Dick glared at Damian, who smiled innocently back. Pulling his gaze from Damian, Dick resigned himself to actually listening to the meeting. It was sure to be better than whatever the hell his fucked up brain had for him. 

\---


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 2 of I'm guessing 3! I enjoy writing dark dick probably more than I should like. also, I have updated the tags so please heed those! this was supposed to be a stupid simple one-shot that grew a little into a stupid medium shot. funny how that always happens! as always, comments are welcome, and I hope you enjoy :)

Ice cold rain made the Gotham winter night even colder, and Dick’s lips felt like they were gonna freeze off if he licked his lips again. He felt brutish, like he was pulled in a million different ways and no matter how many times he tried to simplify it in little psychological statements, he was just an animal plowing through the night. He couldn’t even focus that long. He had been more angry than anything in the last couple of days, but he was feeling himself start to split. He was _afraid,_ the more he thought about what he wanted to do and how it would be so very easy to do it. Terrified that his moral compass had been destroyed so thoroughly, and that he couldn’t seem to get a grip on it. Putting on the cowl made it so much worse; he felt ill-deserving of all that power when he was arguably in the worst mental state he had ever been in, but it gave him an outlet. He was now pressingly attracted to his Robin, who took any chance to cast out lines of affection and see if they’d land. No longer did Dick let himself have that private window, that bubble of privacy. Every time he felt his body tense and he ground his teeth, looking away quick enough his head felt like it was gonna snap. Everything hurt, and Dick felt like every time he tried to sit and sort through the _whys_ again, the rest of his problems pulled him back and he just felt worse. 

Damian had caught the running thug, a well aimed batarang that cut across his ankles. The Robin stepped forward almost as if to interrogate the man himself, but one look at Dick made him back away quickly. Dick stalked forward, all his unstable energy finally finding the one outlet he was allowing himself. Black boots splashed in brown puddles, and Dick felt his arms jerk excitedly. He had been training more than ever, but it was nothing compared to the thrill of _real_ fighting. His mind so easily zeroed in the need to _correct,_ to _punish,_ that it was the only true reprieve he could have recently. So what if he was breaking bones? So what if he hitting harder than he ever had in his life? If it meant he didn’t have to think about wanting to fuck the underage boy next to him, then it was an easy choice. Life pitted you against moral decisions, and normally that came so easily to Dick. For the moment, he would pick anything that was on the other side of indulging his sexual desires. 

The thug felt the change in the air, and he looked back in alarm. Seeing Dick striding over to him, black cape blocking out the dim alleyway light, he started screaming and crawling away. Dick’s heart picked up, the feeling of adrenaline so welcome. Stopping in front of the man, Dick leaned down to look at the man. Ashy blonde hair and hazel eyes, one big scar over his nose. He was one of the head men in Penguin’s network, and it hadn’t been that easy to track him down. 

“You’re going to start talking. Because you don’t want to see what comes next if you don’t.” Dick growled, his hand shooting out to choke the man. Gasping, the man twisted away, sweat pouring off him. “I’m not tha’ high up! I swear, I just handle the little things. I can - I’ll tell you someone else, someone else _higher,_ I don’ got nothing!” 

White lenses narrowed angrily. Did he think he was _stupid?_ As if he had no idea how many hours Dick had to spend tracking this waste of space’s changing identities to finally find his apartment. “Try again. I’m feeling less and less lenient with every lie that slips out of your mouth.” Dick grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it back, hearing the crack echo in the alley. A scream tore out of the man below him, and tears streamed down his cheeks. _That was nothing. You don’t know pain at all._

Fearful hazel eyes shot back and forth, until he finally landed on Damian watching behind Dick. “This isn’t right - you can’t do this! You’re just supposed to capture, not _beat_ us. You’re n-not Batman.” Hiccups between choked sobs made Dick’s chest flare up in irritation. Damian glanced down at the man disdainfully, but he didn’t say anything. He looked up at Dick to see what he would say. 

“I _am_ the fucking Batman . And you’re going to tell me the truth, or I’m going to break a lot more than just your goddamn wrists.” Dick snarled, fingers tightening around the man’s throat. Dick’s hand hovered over his other wrist, and the man cried harder. “Fi-fine, please just stop. I-I manage the influx of finances. I do trades for shipments of guns. They get either money or a place in our warehouse to store illegal items. I don’t know any exact _plans,_ but I just know something big is c-coming.” The man stuttered out, hands going up to shield his face from Dick. 

“Give me the coordinates for the warehouse. If I don’t find enough with your information, then I’m taking you out of Arkham to punish you myself. Don’t test me.” 

“It’s underground, on Crest Hill, behind Fox Gardens. There’s a port just north of it that gets shipments every Tuesday. That’s it, I swear!” The thug cried out, and Dick felt a twinge of disappointment. He almost didn’t want it to be so easy, because now it was over. Now he was going to be looking at Damian all night in search for that goddamn warehouse, and he had to control himself. The bile that would rise in his throat when he was darker, was coming later and later every day now. 

“Gordon. I have one of Penguin’s men near Sherwood street, in the back alley. I’m sending you the exact coordinates. Batman out.” Dick said into his tracker, pushing off of the man roughly. “Cuff him to that pipe, Robin.” 

Damian stepped forward, grabbing the man’s wrists tight but not nearly as tight as Dick did, and he dragged him to the nearest pipeline. Distance police sirens sounded from Old Gotham, and Dick felt the pit in his stomach settle. _On to the next. One thing at a time._ The urge to ruin the guy was still present, but only then did his throat burn with shame. That was too far. He just wish he cared a little more. 

Shooting off into the night, northeast towards Crest Hill, Dick barely heard Damian trailing after him. Landing on one of the highest points of the Bank of Gotham, Dick tensed to grapple again. The sound of Damian’s boots grinding to a halt made him turn. Damian looked uncharacteristically conflicted. Was this not the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve to the world? Dick felt simultaneously desperate to know what Damian was thinking about and annoyed. “What?” Dick asked wearily. 

“Without you, I would be doing much worse to these criminals. I could be killing them. You taught me that was wrong. That Father taught that that was wrong. That it was immoral. But I didn’t listen because of Father. Not really. I listened because _you_ said it. Because _you_ told me it was wrong. I just wanted to say that.” Damian said quietly, his hand coming up to hang on his neck shyly. 

Dick furrowed his brow. On one hand that was incredibly loaded - it was _him_ that saved Damian from the brink of evil. But he didn’t care for that insinuation - the timing of this admission. What, did all of a sudden he not like what the cowl did to Dick? How _selfish_ to not realize how much stress he was under. How putting on the cowl was harder than anything he’d ever done, and then he needed to find out that he was attracted to him? Did he even _realize_ how easy it would be for Dick to snap? To explode, to just not care about anything anymore? To lose himself in the darkness, or just force Damian to take him any one of those damn nights they were out on patrol? How it didn’t matter how much Damian loved him - if he let himself go around Damian, it would be too much for anyone, much less a _boy._ How he was really doing _all_ that he could not to just give in and take and take. How being a little rougher wasn’t even misguided. He was not killing them, he was not torturing them. He was hitting harder, and perhaps breaking more bones. But this was _all he had._ This was the _only_ thing that let him not lose it. Using the cowl as an outlet, when all it had done was suck out his soul if he didn’t play by its rules. He wasn’t Nightwing. He was _Batman._

“What are you trying to say?” Dick asked irritably. 

“I feel like this is related to...us. And I just wanted to say I like that you take those risks. Take those fights. That you hold it so well, even though you didn’t want it. But you don’t need to lose yourself in it. It’s _us._ It’s in our blood. You need to talk to me. You need to let it _happen._ Every day you fight it, I see you more unhinged. I just want _you_. It’s that simple.” Damian said gently, his face pleading. Dick stiffened, sweat already lining his back. See, it was things like _that._ Admissions or statements like that that just made it so fucking difficult. Because it would be so easy. Every night since Damian had slept in his bed, all Dick thought about was the feeling of his body pressed against him. Had looked up at the ceiling while his hard cock twitched with need, and he waited and waited until sleep would take him. How Damian still wanted to be there in his bed, how he said wanted it more than anything. How his body was already so scarred and muscled, but that it still was so soft and so _innocent._ He was barely young enough to start having erections consistently, and yet he was already familiar with it because of _Dick._ How small he’d be under Dick’s erection, or how _bratty_ Dick knew he’d be. So sure of himself, but Dick knew that as soon as he really touched Damian that would leave, and all that innocence would show. But he couldn’t. It didn’t matter that it felt like it was in his blood. Felt inescapable, like it wouldn’t leave no matter how much he wished it away. It didn’t feel like past trysts or loves...it felt deeper, more damning. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t do that. He wasn’t going to give in. 

“No. What _is_ simple, is that it can’t happen. This is all I have right now. I can’t look at you and forget what I want. But don’t you get it? _I don’t care that it’s what I want._ It’s not what is ever happening. _It’s that simple._ ” Dick snarled, his temper spiking. It was like Damian didn’t even recognize how hard Dick was working to prevent this from happening. _No. This is all I have._ Damian frowned, glaring up at Dick. 

“You are the _best_ man I know. Loving someone does not change that. Pushing me away does not change anything. It’ll just make the fall harder.” Damian sneered, pushing past Dick and charging off the ledge. 

Dick breathed in and out, hands at his side rigid. He counted to twenty in his head, focusing on relaxing each part of his body. He was doing the right thing, Dick kept telling himself. There was no logical reason _not_ to punish himself for such thoughts. They would grow out of it. _Both of us will move on, and this will be a weird memory._

But the thought of Damian moving on, _not_ meaning everything he said made Dick’s throat burn. He never wanted anything to happen so badly, and simultaneously couldn’t think of anything that felt more painful. 

\---

Dick swiveled, ducking under the simulation laser. The smallest movement signaled behind him, and he flipped back, about to send a batarang back. The millisecond before he let go, he saw that it was a holographic of a small girl, and Dick barely redirected it to miss her. The batarang stuck in the stone behind her, and Dick felt himself break down. He roared angrily, head pulling the cowl off roughly, and he shook with shame. He had been training for so long, trying desperately to focus, to find his center. _This_ was exactly what he was afraid of: when his instability would lead to a mistake so shameful that he couldn’t even think about it. Sweat poured off of him, and Dick felt tears at the corners of his eyes. He was so _fucked._ It didn’t matter that he had made some progress to deal with _how_ to process the burden Bruce left him - because his fucking _son_ had ruined any semblance of stability. Dick’s hands shook; he wanted to scratch at his face, to hit something, to do _something_ that made him feel any better. _No. Do it again._ Dick pulled back on the cowl and exhaled sharply. He headed over to the blinking screen, and he set up the simulation again. 

“You’ve done that simulation thirty-seven times. Every single time has been perfect, and that last one, you saved it in time. You’ve been up for ninety-six hours. You’re running yourself ragged for no reason.” Damian’s voice called out from the Cave stairs, his black shoes coming into view from the shadows. 

Dick ground his teeth, feeling his heart pick up excitedly. _Leave me the fuck alone._ Damian came into view, and Dick felt ill at the sight. Moments where he felt like everything slowed around him to properly appreciate how attractive Damian was were becoming far too frequent. Every single time Dick felt winded; how could Damian just _look_ like that? Emerald eyes burned from under long eyelashes, sharp features so pretty. It felt like every time it happened Dick just realized how perfect he was, and it made Dick feel small. It was so ineluctable - it didn’t matter what he did, because every way he turned, Damian was there, looking like the most beautiful thing Dick had ever seen, and it just _hurt._

“No. I’m unreliable. I can’t afford to make mistakes. I almost hit her, Damian. What if I hit a real kid? When I’m Batman, sworn to protect the innocent. That’s _unacceptable_ .” Dick’s hard voice gritted out, and the statement was so loaded. He was sworn to protect the innocent, and who was most innocent of all? _Children._ And one was standing right in front of him, and he wanted to devour that innocence every goddamn second. _I’m disgusting._

Damian narrowed his eyes, Dick already anticipating his retort and not caring. Dick pressed the start button and strode over to the center of the mats, ready to start again. Damian followed the perimeter, his stiff posture hiding how angry he was. The simulation started, several thugs forming in front of Dick, who roped them together to uppercut them sequentially. 

“You’re _tearing_ yourself apart. For _what?_ Because you love me back? I am in _love_ with you. All I ever _do_ is see you in everything beautiful. How is that wrong? You are so pigheaded, it’s insane. I’m fucking sick of this.” Damian growled, slamming the end button. Dick hissed, spinning around to glare at Damian. Sweat poured off his nose, dripping down onto the mat. His muscles burned, screaming for him to stop. 

“Damian. Turn it back on _now._ I am not going to ask you again.” Dick snapped. Damian stalked towards him. He stopped in front of Dick, who looked warily down at him. He hadn’t been so close to Damian in awhile, and he felt his anger slip into nervousness. There was nothing more that he wanted to do than let go and touch Damian, but he couldn’t fully commit to what he should do and back up. He stood still, waiting for Damian’s next move. 

“Infuriating fool.” Damian breathed out, his face softening when he saw how hard Dick held his jaw. Small hands came up slowly to touch Dick’s cheek, and Dick held his breath. He could’ve moaned when Damian’s hands finally touched him, they felt so _electric._ Dick had been starved of Damian’s touch, having not touched him at all for days. 

“To think that you see me in everything you do now, and you choose to close your eyes. Why, beloved? Do I disgust you?” Damian whispered, his face tight. Dick shook his head, unable to talk. He felt so exhausted, so drained, and Damian’s presence was so simultaneously grounding and agitating. He knew he _should_ lie, just so that Damian could stop wasting his time on Dick. But he couldn’t say that. _Never._ He didn’t know what to do anymore, and everything felt like so much that he was barely hanging on at any given second. 

“Then I don’t see why you punish yourself. What I feel for you...it is the only thing I ever need. I’ve known so ever since that night. I would have left you alone if you did not share in my sentiment, but you _do._ I can’t be happy without you. You’re falling apart. Let it happen, beloved.” Damian pleaded, his hands tightening on Dick’s jaw. 

Dick’s head swam, and he felt like he was burning up in the suit and he couldn’t get out. Couldn't think, couldn’t do what was right, couldn’t do _anything._ Dick leaned down, his weight falling down into Damian’s arms, and suddenly Dick’s legs buckled. Damian exclaimed in surprise, trying desperately to hold Dick’s weight up. Dick’s muscles were done, his body was breaking, and he couldn’t even begin to explain the ruin in his mind. He couldn’t do this anymore - any of it. _Too tired, too weak, just not enough._

Damian grunted, holding Dick in his full suit up. Dick’s cape dragged as Damian carried Dick over to the nearest chair. As soon as Damian pushed Dick off into the chair, he could tell that Dick had gone out, his head lolling back. _You work yourself to death so needlessly, my love._ Damian bit his lip tensely, wondering if he should just deal with Dick or if he should call Alfred. Did Alfred need to worry about this? _Probably not._ Alfred already seemed completely lost as to what brought on Dick’s sudden nosedive into disarray, after he seemed better just last month. Then what if Alfred fished for what brought this on, and he was more suspicious, and well, it just seemed unnecessary to Damian. He was growing quite fond of the old man, and he knew that this was not really something that he needed to worry Alfred with. He had it covered just fine. He could deal with Dick perfectly on his own. 

Damian went to work on taking off Dick’s suit, reaching around his waist to press the pressurized button that would click him free. Carefully, Damian pulled Dick’s gauntlets, cowl, and chest piece off, leaving his lower half of the suit. Already feeling the effects of seeing Dick in such a state, Damian tried to remind himself that this was a moment of _trust,_ that it was a time where Dick was vulnerable and needed help. Finally clicking off all of his lower suit, Damian looked down at Dick’s almost naked form. He was just wearing his boxers, his sweaty carved physique teasing Damian. Even asleep, Dick’s body looked like he was posing, and Damian felt his stomach clench. It was so tempting...he was _right_ there. _No. It’s not right._ But Dick wanted him back. He knew that. Wouldn’t he actually want this? Damian faltered. He couldn’t tell if it was moral to not do it, or if that was just Dick’s twisted sense of self-punishment talking. Damian’s eyes flitted up to Dick’s face. _But I could. He doesn’t even need to know._

Damian frowned, bouncing back and forth on his feet. It was so close - what he wanted for so long. And he _knew_ Dick felt the same. This was just accelerating the inevitable, right? Damian needed this. And clearly, Dick did too, since he had come to tearing himself down every waking second. When was the last time he let himself have what he needed? Damian inched forward, already breathing heavily with anticipation. Small hands slowly grasped Dick’s boxers, and pulled them down. Dick didn’t even shift, but Damian’s eyes kept darting up just in case. Dick was soft, but still formidable, and Damian couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was _real_ to actually see it. He stopped breathing, the full impact of what he was going to do far off in the distance. Dick’s cock was _right_ there, and Damian knew he could make him feel so good. He was barely experienced with himself, but it didn’t matter; he _would_ make Dick feel even just a fraction of what he felt for Dick. Damian slowly grasped Dick’s cock, and he pulled down experimentally. It was already hardening, and Damian swallowed excitedly. 

Damian pumped Dick’s cock a couple of times, obsessed with the way the member grew before his eyes. Veins started to pop out from the hard cock, and Damian let out a small moan. Damian sped up, wanting to see the pre-come that was beaded at the tip all over his hands, wanted proof that he was doing this. Dick shifted, his stomach tensing briefly, and Damian stilled. He looked up quickly, torn between the rising feeling of shame and the exhilarating feeling of his fantasy coming to life. He couldn’t decide what he wanted more - Dick to stay passed out the entire time and let Damian have his way with him, or Dick wake up in a rage and hopefully fuck him stupid. Dick’s cock started twitching, and Damian recognized he was close. He wanted to feel Dick’s come on him, wanted to feel as much of Dick as he could. Giving one last pump, Damian sat back and hurriedly pulled down his slacks and boxers, only clad in a shirt. Damian was already hard and close to finishing, his much smaller dick bobbing with the movement. Praying to any and every entity in the universe, Damian hoped that Alfred would just find the manor more exciting than whatever was in the Cave and spare himself, because he was not letting this opportunity go. _Too far now._

Damian started panting, sweat gathering on his back, as he clambered up on Dick’s lap slowly. Hands on the chair arms, Damian slowly lowered his weight on Dick’s lap, slowing anytime Dick’s breathing sped up. Finally, he sat full seated in Dick’s lap, Dick’s cock dwarfing Damian’s cock. Damian whined at the sight, losing it at the sight of Dick’s massive size compared to his. Damian couldn’t wrap his hands around both of their cocks, but he tried to do as much as he could, pumping them several times as he moaned into his shoulder. A moan barely left Dick’s lips, and at that point, Damian wasn’t sure he could stop even if Dick woke up that second. Dick’s cock twitched again, and Damian was overwhelmed by the jealous thought that he wanted Dick’s cock in him. Wanted his come inside him. Damian struggled with whether or not he could even last preparing himself, or if Dick would last that long. A small perhaps more stable voice in his head whispered that he wanted that but he wanted that from _Dick_ , but not by being taken from him. Damian made up his mind, holding himself by the chair arms. Closing his thighs around Dick’s cock, Damian felt Dick’s cock pulse on his balls. Dick shifted, his hands flexing, and Damian couldn't help the small whimper that tore out. Needing friction, Damian lowered himself again and again, almost crazed, eyes glued on the way Dick’s cock disappeared and reappeared between Damian’s thighs. Damian could only imagine what it must feel like to have that _inside_ him, and the thought sent him off the edge. His body tensed, all sensation burning from the tips of his toes, and the most powerful orgasm he had ever had ripped out of him and spurted up between them. “Fuck, Dick, I love you,” Damian whined, drinking in Dick’s slack face and reacting body. 

Damian’s thighs clenched tightly around Dick’s twitching cock, and finally Damian felt the telltale pulses that preluded Dick coming hard. Thick, white globs of come painted Damian’s front, and he bit his tongue so as to not groan aloud. Dick’s orgasm was powerful, lasting far longer than Damian’s, and emerald eyes burned watching spurt after spurt. Dick’s face had tightened, his brows furrowed, but otherwise he was still out. Damian exhaled slowly, his arms aching from holding himself up so long. Carefully pushing himself back, Damian landed silently on the ground in front of Dick’s sprawled out body. His legs felt so weak, his stomach almost sore with the power of his orgasm. Most of Dick’s come was on Damian’s front, but he leaned down to gently suck any remnants off of Dick’s cock, tucking it back inside his boxers. It tasted bitter but heady, and he wanted more everywhere, more in his mouth, in his gut, in his ass. _Want to be full of you, beloved._

Damian stood back, realizing that now he really needed to do something with Dick. He pulled up his pants, and set off to look for some clothes Dick kept by the showers. Damian found one of Dick’s favorite black shirts, and dark gray sweatpants. He also grabbed one for him, since his shirt drenched in Dick’s come was particularly damning. Bundling them under his arm, Damian ran silently back to Dick, his logical mind finally coming back. Guilt poked and prodded in his head, but the high of what he had just done was just barely coming down, and he knew that he would’ve done it again in a heartbeat. There was no need to dwell on what he wouldn't want to change anyways. _We both wanted it._ Damian gently pulled Dick’s sweatpants on, briefly stopping to check he was still out before tugging on his shirt slowly. Finally done, Damian exhaled tiredly, feeling sweaty and hot. 

Dick was still out, and Damian frowned looking down at him. He had been driving himself into the ground, without sleep, for so long, and that was going to make more mistakes than fix them. Things would come to a breaking point soon for Dick, he was sure. It was just a matter of making sure it tipped in their favor. Deciding that Dick looked comfortable enough, and possibly that any real significant movement would wake him, Damian decided to leave him there. Turning around, Damian looked for the nearest bench he could pull over to sleep on near Dick. Pulling over Dick’s extra shirt, Damian sniffed deeply, enjoying the intoxicating smell of his beloved. Damian grinned, unable to stop the rush of happiness that just surged through. With Dick’s scent drowning him, and him so close, after _that_ happened, well. Damian couldn't find himself to dwell on being guilty for long at all. That’s what they could do _all_ the time, when Dick finally woke up and pulled his tortured moral head out of his ass. It would come, Damian knew. Damian leaned back, turning to watch Dick’s breathing slow again. His eyes shutting, Damian fell asleep with a smile, knowing that what they had was truly inevitable. _Soon, my love._

Damian’s even breathing slowed with Dick’s, and even the bats overhead didn’t dare to disturb the peace the pair shared. 

\---

The rain pelted down from above, the alley behind the Bank of Gotham flooding with water. Dick’s strained eyes were trained on the figure below, his heartbeat erratic. He had slept for a couple hours, waking up to find Damian sleeping next to him on a bench and himself dressed in clothes he had not been wearing. Dick had stormed off up to the manor, disgusted by the fact that his chest felt warm when he realized what Damian had done. Dick felt barely any better, but that didn’t matter. If anything, it was more of a testament to his will to succeed, to overcome his weaknesses, that he knew he belonged out into the night. He had told Damian to stay behind that night for patrol. He couldn’t explain it, but he just _knew_ something would make him snap if he saw Damian all patrol. There was a whole row over his decision, and Damian had cried in anger. Alfred had even protested Dick’s decision, but it didn’t matter. It was firm. 

Selina’s form slunk across the roof below and to his right, and Dick’s gaze sharpened. He knew Selina was calling in one of the Penguin’s higher men, probably bargaining jewelry for information on how one of their top men was caught by the GCPD. Dick dove down, hitting the ground hard behind Selina. She startled, flipping back into a defensive stance. Dick straightened, knowing the sight that he was. He noticed the way Selina’s eyes dilated in fear, and Dick reveled in the thought. There was too much going on for him to not have a little fun, and the last time he was able to let loose _alone..._ It had felt like eons. But this - this was _justice._ This was him saving the city, saving what Batman meant, what it meant to be Dick Grayson. His blood sang with the anticipation at another outlet for violence. 

“Dick.” Selina acknowledged cooly, the smallest waver to her voice. Dick smirked. So, she was going to play dumb? That was more fun. 

“Kyle. Interesting to see you here. I’d almost think you’re here on dishonest grounds, but then, that would be presumptuous of me, wouldn't it?” Dick said slowly, his head pounding. Everything felt like it was going too quick around him, but hearing his voice so cutting grounded him. Selina knew nothing of what went on his head. _I’m fine. She doesn’t know. No one knows._

“Are all my actions your business? They weren’t even Bruce’s. He knew better than to push too hard.” Selina hissed, backing up when she saw Dick’s twitching hand. “This isn’t like you. What is wrong with you?” Selina asked quickly, fear settling in. Dick strode forward, eyes burning. Selina clearly did not realize who she was dealing with - this was _his_ city. He was there to promote justice, and people like her kept trying to undercut him - to make him look _weak._

“Wrong with _me_ ? I should be asking you the very same question. You’re here to sell off my information. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Dick growled, wanting Selina to push back like she always did. He felt _desperate_ for the simplicity of battle. 

Selina frowned, eyes darting around to see her chances of escape. “Where’s your little brat? Something’s wrong with you. Bruce wouldn't want you to set this example. Left him behind so you could break your own rules?” Selina threw out, backing up towards the ledge. Dick snarled, fists clenched. 

“So that _is_ it. You’re losing it.” Selina jumped on the accusation. “That’s Bruce’s son you have. You’re corrupting him because you’re falling into darkness. You’re all he has, and you’re ruining him.” Selina blamed, one hand going behind her back to grab her whip. 

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. You know _nothing._ Nothing! You have no idea what I’m going through. I’m _Batman_. I’m doing what’s right.” Dick snapped, moving forward to attack Selina. 

“Bruce wouldn’t want you to do this. You need help, Dick. You’re going to ruin yourself and Damian. You’re all he has.” Selina said calmly, realizing she’d need to deescalate the situation if she wanted to leave. “Let me help. Or just listen to me. This isn’t you. This isn’t even _Bruce._ You need to come back. Stop running from whatever it is.” 

Dick roared, charging towards Selina who ducked his punch. Dick’s hits were easy to anticipate, all power and no measure. Selina, as lithe as she was, danced around him, climbing up the nearest pipeline and looking down at Dick. She looked off at the higher roof, but stayed, seeing Dick so unhinged. 

“Dick. You need _help._ Please, just let me help, Bruce would want me to help you. I won’t meet them, okay? I won’t do it, if you just fucking relax.” Selina called down, hands on her hips. 

Dick shut his eyes angrily, his teeth grinding. _Just like that?_ How was he supposed to outlet his energy now? He couldn’t admit that he was just looking for a fight, but he didn’t want to talk to her at all. He wanted her to leave or let him fight her, because every mention of help speared through Dick’s chest. _Jesus._ Dick’s tracker beeped, and Damian’s breathy voice came on. 

“Batman, I was following you. Penguin’s cretins caught me first - I’m trapped by St. Luke’s. They don’t know exactly my position, but there’s too many for just me. Need help ASAP. Robin out.” 

Dick froze, Damian’s words sinking into him. Spinning, Dick turned west towards St. Luke’s, and he dove off without a glance towards Selina. Selina grimaced, looking back and forth between her escape route and following the unhinged Batman that wanted to kill her just a second prior. 

The sound of Selina's whip cracked to try and catch up with Dick, who was moving faster than she’d ever seen him move. 

\---


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright last chapter! I'm pretty sure you all now know my chemistry exam schedule, because the day after I take an exam, I suddenly have all this time to write sinful sinful things. This was bigger than I expected, but really, that's just how it works around here it seems. I'll ramble more at the end, for now, enjoy and thanks for reading! :)

Damian wheezed, muscles burning as he sprinted across the rooftop. One of the thugs had randomly scouted where he was hiding, and Damian hadn’t knocked him out quietly enough. He barely escaped with a deep cut on his eyebrow before the rest of the group caught wind of him. Scaling up the alleyway fire escape, several thugs caught his movement and the big chase renewed. Bullets whizzed by him, and he ducked his head quickly. _Please go on and take your time, Dick, it’s no rush. I’m doing just fine._

Damian slid across, hiding behind one of the bigger vents, blasting hot air into the cold Gotham air. Penguin’s thugs’ yells and shouts followed, and Damian heard their boots thumping on the fire escape. He’d grapple, but one of the first shots they had sent after him had cut through the attachment on the grapple of his belt, and fell down three stories. Jumping off the building entirely was not completely off the table - he would figure _something_ out mid-air and anyways, it was a better end than dying to some of Penguin’s men. Damian grit his teeth, risking a glance back when their flashlights shined elsewhere. There was just way too many - scores of thugs and Damian sorely admitted that even he would need a little help against the sheer mass of bodies and guns. Damian weighed whether or not he should stay and try and maybe pick them off in small numbers, or if he should just leap off. 

Just then, a hard thud to Damian’s left was followed by a smaller thud, and Damian snapped his neck over. Dick crouched, jaw tight, and he scanned the area quickly until he caught Damian’s hidden form. White lenses narrowed angrily, and Damian forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be out period. _Well, big man, you’re going to have to suck it up._ Damian glared back. 

“There’s a _lot_ of them. We can take them. How do you want to do this, Dick?” Selina’s pretty face popped from behind Dick’s broad shoulders, and Damian couldn’t help but feel grateful for the first time that Dick had brought someone else. He could be mad later about any private time he lost with Dick later when they were alive. 

Dick’s mouth pulled back irritably, and he looked around the large vent they were hiding behind. The thugs were gathering at the top of the fire escape, orders of spreading being issued out. Dick’s fists clenched erratically, and Damian felt his stomach sink - Dick was like _this_ again. _Fuck._ He hoped that being alone at least, maybe he wouldn’t be so unstable. _If anything, you look worse._

“Robin, you take the left wing, bring the stragglers out. Catwoman, you shadow me. I’m going in for the biggest guns. If we time it correctly, we’ll be fine.” Dick said, his gravelly voice sharp. “Do not think I forgot about you, Robin. As soon as this is over, we need to talk about your insistent insubordination.” Damian nodded quickly, despite his irritation with the man, because the mere sight of Dick filled him with the certainty that he could do anything now, with him at his back. _You’re lucky I’m in love with you._

Damian ran silently to the left, ducking behind the varying heights of vents and pipes, until he turned a corner. Steam from the street below floated up, distorting the city glow and making Damian’s eyes strain to see. A couple of thugs were exploring twenty feet away from him, their companions’ flashlights flashing farther and father behind. _Stragglers._ Damian set up behind the vent, hand already grasping a batarang, and waited for Dick’s signal. 

The familiar hiss of a smoke bomb made Damian’s blood sing with excitement. He pulled himself over the vent, enjoying the confused backward glances of the men in front of him. Damian shot down, his boot slamming into a head, while he threw three batarangs out at the closest thug. Landing on one leg, Damian flipped up, his fist colliding with the last startled thug. 

“Tt. I could’ve taken all of you while blind. Embarrassing.” Damian curled his lip in disgust, bounding over the heap of bodies. These men were not worthy of his respect by any means, but they were higher tier men than Penguin normally hired - armored more fully and equipped with far better weapons. _Doesn’t matter._ Following the screams and gunfire, Damian took off after the center of the fight. 

Damian ducked as soon as he entered the main clearing, avoiding a dagger thrown by one of Penguin’s quickest men. Damian narrowed his eyes, darting forward, pulling up his cape to shield any incoming gunfire, and brought his knee up to slam the man’s face. Hearing the satisfactory crack of a broken nose or jaw, Damian turned to catch the next one. 

“Watch yourself, brat.” Selina’s voice sounded behind Damian, and he ducked. Another knife whizzed above him, and he turned to glare at the source. A quick press of his remote electrical charge, and the shocked thug fell in a heap. 

“I do not desire your help, thief. I called for Batman, not _you._ ” 

“Only you bats could tear my head off and then blame me for it. Fine, enjoy a knife in your giant head. Can’t say you don’t have the same survival instincts as your dearest daddy.” Selina sniped, tripping several thugs with her whip. 

“Keep his name out of your mouth, and we'll be just fine, you glorified pickpocketer.” Damian grumbled. Selina laughed, her head turning to look over at him. 

“Pity, it’s almost too easy. That’s not all I had in my mouth.” Damian gagged, his eyes sending burning holes to the back of Selina’s head. “Besides, twerp, you’d do well to watch your tongue. I’m trying to _help_ you.” Selina’s eyes caught his meaningfully, before a thug pulled her down. Damian scoffed, flipping back and focusing ahead of him. 

“You have nothing I want. I have everything I want.” Damian hissed over his shoulder. 

“Wha - do you even _understand_ -” Selina’s irritated tone got caught off by a thug’s particularly loud scream of pain coming from Dick’s direction. Damian watched as the man crawled desperately away from Dick, only to be pulled back by his ankles and thrown into the vent. When his body thudded, Damian’s stomach lurched, looking for any signs of life. _Fuck._ A pathetic groan followed pretty late, considering. He was alive, but only barely. 

Dick fought in the background, his punches too hard, the resounding cracks echoing far too loudly. He seemed _rabid,_ Damian half-expectant he was going to start frothing at the mouth. Why was he _so_ worked up? This was even more than the previous night’s simulation stunt. Damian sidestepped a charging thug, wrapping his arm around his neck to flip him over. Was it something to do with Selina? Dick had been pretty weird last time they had seen Selina, but Damian couldn’t tell why exactly. The mention of his father seemed like part of it, but not all of it. Whatever it was, Selina must’ve known how to press Dick’s buttons more than Damian gave her credit for. 

Selina danced around a circle of thugs, her whip pulling in two to smash into each other. She ran to help Dick who was taking on four at once, but his snarl of warning made her back off. Damian tried to focus on _his_ side, but the unhinged way Dick was fighting kept his eyes zipping back. Dick was a black flash, fury coming off him in waves, and the circle of broken thugs around him was growing more and more. Damian was just about to pull his gaze and finally focus on his own side, when he caught one of the thugs behind Dick brandishing one of the large submachine guns. Damian’s heart dropped, with Dick not realizing, he was bound to get hit, and there was _always_ a possibility. Damian’s fear gas hallucinations filled his mind, and terror laced through his body. _No. Not again. Never again._

Damian sprinted, green boots barely hitting the ground, towards Dick. In his peripheral, Damian saw Selina falter and gasp. The grinning thug’s finger inched towards the trigger, and Damian pushed forward, desperate to get there in time. He _couldn’t_ do it again, could _not_ live it again. He would die first. Dick’s snarling filled Damian’s ears, before the imminent bang of the submachine gun started and the spray started. Damian launched himself towards Dick, pushing him to the side. Time slowed, and Dick’s angry face barely caught Damian in passing. Damian felt a sharp hot spike in the side of his neck, and he fell hard. Selina’s scream of horror filled Damian’s ears, and Damian felt his throat soak with blood. 

“ _What the fuck did you do?”_ Dick yelled. 

Dick stared down at Damian, his hands going up in shock. Selina cried out, darting forward to touch Damian. Instantly, Dick roared, pushing her back forcefully. He couldn’t let her touch him, couldn’t let anyone touch him. “Clear this place out _._ I’ve got him.” Dick snapped, not checking to see if Selina listened to him. Dick stumbled down, reaching towards Damian’s crumpled body. Cradling Damian’s head, Dick choked. There was so much _blood,_ blood everywhere, dripping down Damian’s neck and down his front. Dick pulled him on his side, seeing blood pool on his front. Black gauntlets shook as Dick carded through Damian’s hair, pulling him closer and closer into a heap on Dick’s lap. Damian’s mouth twitched up, and his hand found Dick’s. 

“S’okay.” Damian rasped quietly. Dick’s mind short circuited, everything didn’t feel real. _This_ couldn’t be real. Everything felt achingly slow and too fast, and Dick could barely keep his head still. The overwhelming and obsessive thrill he had from battle felt like lead in his system, slowing down and taking up space for him to actually realize what the fuck was going on. Hot tears spilled down on Damian’s face, and Dick distantly realized those must be his. Gritting his teeth so hard his jaw strained, Dick knew if he didn’t focus he was gonna spiral. Why did Damian _do_ that? Why did he have to be such a fucking idiot? _No. He’ll be okay. I can’t lose you. He’ll be okay._ Damian shifted and moaned in pain, other hand going up to cup at his neck. Dick surged forward, his hand closing over to pressure the wound. _Idiot._ That was the _first_ fucking thing to do - what was he _doing?_ Damian’s face was starting to look slack, his mouth moving less and less. The sharp pull of his breaths were getting slower, and Dick felt his pulse weaken beneath his gauntlets. 

“No, no. Hey, hey, _Damian._ Stay with me. Stay with me, _right fucking now._ I got you. We’re okay. You’re fine. _Please_.” Dick insisted, hands frantically pulling Damian up, wanting him to pop right back up and tell him to stop being so stupid. Dick’s throat closed up - what if he _lost_ Damian? Dick heaved, his stomach lurching. He couldn’t even consider the thought. He couldn’t ever. 

Selina’s thin fingers pulled at Dick’s shoulder gently. “I dealt with most, the others ran off...You look wild. He’s going to be fine, Dick. It looks like it didn’t go deep, just superficial. He’s probably just in shock. Call Alfred and send the car. Everything’s going to be fine. You need to call Alfred.” Selina repeated slowly, her stance firm. 

Selina’s slow measured tone broke through Dick’s erratic thoughts, and he repeated her words in his head. Dick sat up awkwardly, pulling his gauntlet up to call Alfred. His right hand kept pressure on Damian’s neck, and Damian’s weak fighting pulse was the only thing letting him open his mouth and speak. 

“Alfred. Prepare med bay. Robin has a bullet wound to his neck. Mostly superficial. Send Batmobile to my location. _Now._ ” Dick grit out, ignoring the stream of tears that dropped down from the tip of his nose. Alfred’s sharp intake of breath was audible over the comms, and Dick stiffened. 

“Of course, sir. Bring him home.” Alfred responded, the barest waver in his voice noticeable. Dick shut off the comm. His gaze drifted up across the gap to the next building, the yellow glow of the city seeping into the black night sky. He held Damian tightly, rocking him back and forth. Selina shifted warily behind him, unsure if she was welcome or not. 

“Do you need help bringing him back?” Selina hedged, her full lips pulled back in concern. Dick paused, as if just noticing her presence. 

“No. This is my fault. He’s mine.”

“Your..responsibility? I can help, Dick. Don’t push everyone out. I can help you.” Selina urged, feeling like she wasn’t truly understanding what was going on. 

“No. He’s just mine.” Dick said tersely. Selina narrowed her eyes. Only a couple years prior, she had a similar conversation with Bruce, about his “responsibilities.” He had placed a _lot_ of emphasis on the angry Dick-shaped responsibility that had gone off to Bludhaven, but Selina had just assumed it was Bruce’s all-consuming guilt complex about anything and everything. During that time, she could get nothing of value out of him, unless Dick was somehow mentioned. _But - wait._ He had said that very _same_ thing about Dick, and hearing it again from Dick’s mouth…it felt strangely revealing. 

“Just..? Dick, we _need_ to talk. Is this because of Bruce?” Selina tried. Dick’s mouth tightened, and Selina knew that she probably could not have picked a worse time to prod him, but if he was anything like Bruce, the more broken he was, the more she could get out. “How are you dealing with...that? You need to let yourself grieve. I’ve never seen you so...different.” Selina eyes dragged across Dick’s haggard appearance, the strained muscles that still tensed when they must be so tired. The little tick of his fists, clenching and unclenching, his jaw rigid. This was so much different from the bright, kind boy she had met years ago. Even when he had become Nightwing, his easy smile was ready to counter Bruce’s deep frown, and Selina had been sure that she would never meet anyone who could hold so much darkness and turn it into light. But this was even _worse_ than Bruce - there was something more than just the weight of the cowl. 

Dick bit his lips until he tasted blood. This was truly not the time to talk about _any fucking thing,_ other than Damian. _No_ , he hadn’t. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He wasn’t propped up on some beach ready to analyze everything, or kicking it in Bludhaven anymore. He was right in the middle of it, living in Bruce’s shadow, and so what did it matter if he couldn’t waste any time to dwell on that? It was in the past. Any stray thought of Bruce could easily lead to Damian, but in such a different way, in such a guilty way, and that felt like he was ruining Bruce’s memory. Could he begin to truly compartmentalize Bruce’s death when he was so tied up even beginning to try and understand how to deal with his son? Dwelling on Bruce or the hole he had left behind was not something he needed to do then. No, there were more pressing things. 

“What exactly kind of relationship did you have? Because I can’t shake this feeling that...I just...I’ve been thinking about the way he used to talk about you, and how it just…reminds me of you now. With...Damian.” Selina said delicately, sidestepping to completely fall in Dick’s line of vision. She knew that the bats dealt better with seeing the threat head on. She just hoped that there was enough of Dick still deep down she could appeal to. More tears fell down Dick’s face, but shakier, and Dick’s grip on Damian tightened. 

Dick stood up, holding Damian so close to his chest that Selina almost worried he was crushing Damian. Selina was pushing too hard - he didn’t think he could bear to hear one more accusation from her mouth. Dick pulled his head up, his teeth pulled back. “And why the _fuck_ do you think that’s your business? Because you fucked him? Then you get to know everything about us? What, are you _jealous?_ You knew nothing about him. Well, he’s _fucking gone!_ Thinking about him doesn’t bring back shit, Selina. You know _nothing_ about us. You never did!” 

Selina winced. She could admit she hadn’t been the most stable constant in Bruce’s life, and that she more often tried him than played by his rules. But she still _loved_ him. She still cared for his family. “Because I loved him. And he wasn’t all there when I had him, but I never thought that it was because of someone else. You didn’t disagree. Should I have been _jealous?_ Of his _ward?_ ” Selina’s voice turned hard at the thought. 

Dick sneered, his legs straining to move forward. “You’re just projecting. There is no place for _you_ in this family. You know nothing about me.” 

“I have never pretended to know exactly how you all work, but - you can’t have... _Why_ would I ever need to consider...consider _that?_ I can’t comprehend it, but what you are right now - I _know_ something is so very wrong.” Selina snapped, her stomach falling when every second it seemed like it just _made sense._

“I know it’s true. I _know_ that look.” Selina felt her temper spike. “And you’re doing it to his _son!_ Who is less than _half_ your fucking age! I can’t say that Bruce was much better, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have _let_ himself do it!” Selina screamed, tears at the corner of her eyes. The more it poured out into the open, the sicker she felt. She couldn’t let herself think about Bruce or even Dick, doing _that,_ because the more she saw Dick’s face, she knew it was true. This distant thought she had, that felt more like disinterest or a misunderstanding in the beginning, now felt real and damning. “You’re even worse than him! He _did_ this to you! And you’re doing it to Damian!” 

Dick started, moving towards Selina, who backed up against the vent fearfully. The wheels of the Batmobile screeched down below, and Dick faltered, his muscles locking. The slightest shift of Damian in his arms made him pull back, and he looked down at Selina, looking feral. Turning quickly, Dick’s cape cracked, and he strode over to the far ledge, jumping down without a glance back at Selina. 

Selina exhaled shakily, her muscles still tense. That _look_ Dick had, the more and more she thought about it the more she felt like he really could break. Heart pounding, Selina ran over to lean over the ledge, watching the Batmobile light up and burn down the street. Any walking passerbys startled at the roar of the Batmobile engine, and Selina watched the black blur disappear into the lava of city life. She shook her head disbelievingly. It couldn’t be - but it _was,_ wasn’t it? Did it not make sense? Selina felt ill. She couldn’t even process Dick doing _that,_ but Bruce..? Hot tears raced down flushed cheeks, and Selina bit the inside of her cheek to not let a sound come out. 

Maybe Dick was right...it was never best to dwell on the past. 

\---

Dick paced anxiously as Alfred worked, his cowl off. He had chewed his lip bloody, and Alfred had snapped at him for getting too close more times than he could count, and he was banned to just looking now. Alfred had said that overall they were really lucky, seeing as the bullet had really only tore through the superficial layer of Damian’s neck, and while there was a lot of blood, it wasn’t anything lethal. Dick had crumpled to his feet with the news, his lungs expanding with new life, and his shaky hands had rushed to grab any part of Damian on the table. Damian was out cold, but the rhythmic beat of his heart soothed Dick, pulling him in with every beat, but it was tenuous - as soon as one ended, Dick’s breathing tightened until he felt the next one. 

“Master Damian has always been a fighter. He’ll be just fine, as soon as I finish dressing this wound.” Alfred said coolly. “He never would have gone out if you had taken him with you, Master Dick. This is by no means your fault, but your insistence on being difficult is starting to become intolerable.” 

Dick’s stride faltered. He turned to look at the back of Alfred’s head, and felt like he was eight years old and being scolded. Dick opened his mouth and closed it. His initial flare of defensiveness deflated - this was _Alfred._ Alfred was right. Damian wouldn’t have ever been alone if Dick hadn’t grounded him. Dick had to admit, there was little to no real merit for why he did it. He just.. _No. It doesn’t matter. My selfishness almost got him killed._

“I know. I’m sorry.” Dick said quietly, his voice raspy with how raw his throat felt. The silence in the cave was deafening, and Dick watched guiltily as Alfred’s quick hands patched up Damian’s neck. Damian’s heart rate sped up briefly, the beep of the monitor filling the silence, and Dick stared down at his boots shamefully. If Damian wasn’t such a fighter...He had risked his life to save Dick, fully intending to sacrifice himself in a heartbeat, when all Dick had done was be an asshole. But not just that, because that didn’t feel enough. He had benched Damian for his own selfish reasons, when all Damian had done was be honest with him. He did press for their romantic relationship, that was true. But had he done anything that wasn’t out of the honesty of his heart? Had he not been the more honest of the two, his actions done with the best intentions in mind, despite the pain Dick must have been causing him? 

Alfred turned as soon as he finished stitching Damian up, and he sighed, leaning against the table. Dick hung his head, unable to look at Alfred. “I have heard from Master Damian that you are turning dark. Rogue, with the bat symbol on your chest to dispel any countenance to your actions. Though it was rather tricky to pull out of him since he is so defensive of you. To him, you hung the moon. I could not leave the room with my tongue if I even question your ways.” Alfred turned, finally looking at Dick. 

“I don’t deserve his loyalty.” 

“You do. But that’s not the problem. Bruce did not want... _this_ . He always said you’d be a better Batman, _because_ you wouldn’t let it ruin you. I will not pretend to know what has set you off to go down this path, but this new change is unacceptable. Master Damian has curbed his _entire_ upbringing for you. And this is the example you give him?” Alfred asked frustratedly, his calm demeanor breaking. “This is what you do with Bruce’s teachings? This is what you defend, wearing his suit every day?” 

“Do not make me lose you, too, Master Dick. You _can_ balance it within you. You can be Dick Grayson and Batman. Until recently, you had found that rhythm. I saw you smile. Dear Lord, I haven’t seen you smile in what feels like months. I can’t watch you do this anymore. Figure out whatever is going on now. Because it stops _tonight_. Next time we won’t be so lucky.” Alfred snapped. Dick’s eyes traced the blood on Alfred’s shirt, and the way every word seemed to drain the butler. 

“I’m sorry. I know what I, what I can’t let myself do. I thought I could balance it, to condition myself away from it. It just. It’s selfish. I don’t think it’s right. In fact, I _know_ it’s not right.” Dick admitted, his legs feeling weak. He couldn’t tell Alfred, but the words wanted to fall right out of his mouth, and it felt so _good_ to talk even through veiled words. 

“What would Master Bruce have said?” 

Dick paled. What the fuck _would_ Bruce say? If it was a purely abstract situation, he would be disgusted. Enraged. But he knew that maybe Bruce had felt this exact way before...before he was gone. But he hadn’t ever _done_ anything, even though Dick pressed him. _That_ was what really burned Dick - because if Bruce was his standard, he had already sentenced himself to denying his feelings. He knew Bruce’s self-loathing, his flat-out refusal to let anything spark between them, and so in what world could Dick justify taking it himself? 

“He wouldn’t have taken what I want. He didn’t.” Dick whispered, his throat closing. He hoped Alfred would only be able to vaguely understand, because the thought of talking straight out, like Selina so pushed, made Dick want to vomit. Alfred studied Dick carefully, his knuckles white with strain. He looked so tired, so broken, that Dick didn’t know if comforting him or leaving would help him most. This was all so fucked up, and he didn’t think he could bear to let Alfred see how ruined he was. He was supposed to be the new head of the family, to lead them through Bruce’s death, and what the fuck was he doing? Lusting after his sidekick, endangering everyone around him, going out night after night looking for trouble? 

“The amount of times I’ve had this very same conversation with Master Bruce...Dick, I...If it’s something that brings you happiness in this hell we are living, then let yourself take it.” Alfred said gravely. “I know that he never did. But it’s not just you here anymore.” Alfred stepped away, showing Damian’s sleeping form. Dick frowned, wondering if Alfred really had any idea what Dick wanted. What would make him happy. “And you’re not him. You don’t need to _be_ him. You need to be, as Master Damian would say, the best Batman you can be. Which is just you, Master Dick.” Alfred said softly. 

Alfred checked Damian’s vitals, before walking up the stairs tiredly. Dick watched him go. There was no way Alfred could truly know what Dick was thinking about - what had derailed him months ago. _Right?_ But he knew he couldn’t keep doing whatever he was doing. In rare moments of clarity, Dick knew that he was using more force than necessary, and had been using Batman as a crutch to ignore the division in his mind. But to _not_ do that would mean to let himself explore that side of him he hated. To let him _love_ Damian. _It doesn’t even matter what I do. Because I still do._ He knew that more than ever from that night, for the first time realizing how broken he would be if Damian was gone. Even just watching Damian breathe, his small body on the table, Dick felt crushed by how much he loved this kid. It was overwhelming in the way if he looked long enough, his lungs felt like they would collapse, and he wanted to ask _how_ someone could be so perfect. It was so much easier for such thoughts to tear through his mind, after being trapped for so long, when he could look at Damian without any audience. He had never felt this way, like this inescapable wave of devotion that had pulled him in would just come back harder and stronger when he pushed back. 

Dick walked over to Damian, letting his hands touch Damian’s face softly. Damian’s breathing slowed. His face looked so peaceful, so serene, and all Dick wanted to do was lean down and never pull back. He couldn’t do this anymore, this chasm of nothingness, withholding himself from their love when if the past months had proven anything, it was that he couldn’t handle it. It hadn’t gone away - it had just gotten stronger. It was eating him up inside, everything he did was haunted by his refusal, and the only way he could escape it was unhealthily losing himself in the cowl. There was a balance, surely. Everything in life was a balance. Damian was something that wasn’t leaving in his life - _ever_ \- and pushing him away was, to echo Alfred, unacceptable. 

Damian stirred, his face pinching and his fists tightening. The smallest whisper of Dick’s name fell on Dick’s ears, and his head fell down to hit the metal bar. _Fuck._

There must be a special place in hell for him. Because he _couldn’t_ just let himself be swayed. It felt like failure, to just give in and let himself have the very last thing he should ever have. He wasn’t going to do it. But something had to change - he knew that at least. _No more pushing him away. But I can’t pull him in. God, this just gets worse and worse._

The cold bar cooled Dick’s sweaty head. He wasn’t going to push him away, but that didn’t mean he needed to play Damian’s game. He felt defenseless and weak, now more than ever vulnerable to the tune Damian played whenever he looked at Dick. _Simple things. Focus on simple things you can change._ Well, he needed to find a new outlet to let off his steam. Or maybe just not let get so fucking pent up. Breaking bones so needlessly, and twisting the criminal life more and more just to enjoy pulling it apart, was too far. Too much, for him _alone,_ much less with someone as impressionable as Damian watching his every move. He was lucky that Damian was so tethered to him he didn’t lose himself in training to be just like Dick. Would that be worse? To raise Bruce’s son wild and blood-thirsty? Or keep him in the line of light, but straying whenever he met Dick’s gaze to give him his heart? _Go on Bruce, pick. Do you want him to be a killer, or taking my cock? Pick your poison, even though you ignored mine for years._ Dick shut his eyes tiredly. 

Dick didn’t know. But it helped to look at Damian, without him looking back. All of Dick’s walls dropped, his shoulders drooping, and he let himself watch Damian openly. It felt better than anything he had done for months. _Just as soon as you wake up. Then it’s back to being safe. I promise._

\--- 

Dick straightened the lapel of his suit anxiously. If he wasn’t doing something with his hands at all times, they would shake, and he wasn’t fond of analyzing the effects his mental deterioration seemed to promise his body. The large desk in front of him seemed to go on forever, and like he always felt behind it, he felt disdainful. He was in the Wayne penthouse, long after a meeting. Damian had stayed, his calculating eyes watching Dick. When Damian had woken up the night before, they had talked very little, Dick stiff and avoidant, unable to see his bandaged neck without wanting to fall at his feet for forgiveness. There would be time to repair their relationship - to rebuild it and find some way to work without crossing that line. Dick was trying to work on himself first. _Just a little._ After several minutes of silence in the large room, Dick met Damian’s eyes slowly. 

“Thank you, for last night. I’m trying to fix this. I’ll figure it soon, little prince. I promise.” Dick said tiredly, hating the way Damian’s face tightened. 

“That’s all you have to say? You’re not still seriously trying to stop _us,_ are you?” Dick’s silence was enough. “Fucking idiot. I can’t believe I had the misfortune to fall for the stupidest man on the planet. Maybe next time I should just die and then you’ll fucking realize. I’m tired, Dick. I _need_ you. I don’t know how I can make myself any clearer.” Damian’s cutting voice ripped through any semblance of peace. 

“I understand that. I _really_ do. I promise. I know it even more than you. But I can’t, little prince. I’m working on how we can figure this out. Stay with me, okay? We can figure this out together.” Dick urged, leaning forward on the desk, large hands splayed out. He had meant it initially, but as he talked, the idea of being _together,_ of agreeing, of being on the same team again, felt so good that Dick wanted Damian so desperately to take his half-way promise. 

Damian’s mouth pulled back in a sneer. He was shaking, and Dick’s chest ached at how young he looked, how he looked so broken and he wasn’t even taller than the chair he sat in. The smallest glimmer of tears showed at the corners of his eyes, and Dick ignored the fact that he had seen Damian cry more because of him than he had seen him cry about anything else. 

“Fuck you. I want _all_ of you. Because you already have _all_ of me. I _know_ you think about me. I _know_ you want me. I’m not stopping until you realize that you’ve been stupid this whole time. I don’t accept your shitty proposal.” 

Dick watched the back of Damian’s dark head leave and slip out the door, leaving Dick alone in the still room. He pulled his hands up, the sweat under them making him stick to the glass. And in silence, Dick had sat for close to an hour, thinking circles around what he could do to balance this out. It might have been for the better that Damian had stalked out, because Dick was meeting with Selina, and he figured he was going to have enough trouble himself without having to deal with Damian as well. 

Thirty minutes past noon, and the sharp clack of high heels echoed outside the door. Dick stood quickly, hands going to straighten his suit. Selina walked in, dressed in a black sequin dress that rippled every time she walked. Long legs walked slowly, and her lithe figure betrayed how strong she was. Her short raven hair fell over green eyes, and full lips were pulled back tightly. 

“Selina. Thank you for coming.” Dick said lightly, already anticipating Selina’s suspicious look. 

“Interesting that you don’t want to slit my throat when we’re not under the darkness of night. Are you only a shitty trainwreck at night? I only came because one, I don’t want you hunting my ass tonight, and two, I want to slap you and see your dumb face while I do it.” Selina muttered, sliding into the large chair in front of Dick’s desk. _That’s fair._ If Dick only got away with a slap, he figured that was a success. 

Dick walked in front of the desk, wondering why he was so stressed out about his suit, or what was on the desk, or whatever. He couldn’t wait until he handed over the enterprise to Damian, because this wasn’t him. _Dick Grayson._ Dick had been reminding himself who he was, it felt like daily, trying to find ways to do things more like he used to. Dick unbuttoned his suit, putting it on the desk, and rolled his cuffs up. Sitting on the desk, Dick looked over at Selina, who looked at him wearily. 

“Yes, well. That would be deserved. I apologize. I’m doing a lot of that lately.” Dick smiled sadly. “I wanted to explain myself a little better, and if you let me, take you up on your offer to listen. At any point, you may leave, and I will take care to not mishandle myself around you like I did last night.” 

Selina eyed him, her cat-like eyes ever wary. “And why the fuck would I do that? After what I know that you do? After you almost _lost_ it and beat my head in?” 

Dick grimaced, counting his breaths. Managing his immediate temper that had just grown and festered for months, was difficult, but doable. “Because I need help. Because I don’t want to do that anymore. And I don’t have anyone to talk to. And no, before you ask, I can’t talk to Alfred about it.” 

“Not even twelve hours ago you were going to murder me. Why the fuck are you all of a sudden looking for repentance?” Selina said irritably. 

“Because I almost lost him. And Alfred, well, we kinda talked. But not about, you know, _it._ I know I need help. Or else I’m going to lose Damian.” Dick admitted, his hands clasping to stop from shaking. Selina’s eyes caught the movement, and her knowing gaze made Dick feel weak. 

“Well, first of all, tell me what the fuck happened to you and Bruce. And if you’re not honest, I’m leaving.” Selina hissed, her body frame closing off. Dick’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. Dick closed his eyes, forcing himself not to really think about the words as they left his mouth. Almost like a boring, factual recital, that he hadn’t said out loud in years. It wasn’t even the worst thing he needed to talk about, and he knew if he lost focus he was going to lose all his momentum. 

Selina rapped her nails on the desk, trying to look put together through her rage. “I grew up idolizing him. I finally found out he wanted me too, and I pushed and pushed. He refused, never did anything. Then everything went to shit, and I left. We never talked about it. Nothing happened.” Dick disclosed, his voice monotonous. He had never talked about it, about _any_ of it, instead letting the weight of time make it hurt less. Bodies and relationships and most of all _distance,_ made it so he didn’t have to think about it every waking second. He looked at the reflection of the bright sky on the gold trim of the nearby bookshelf, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep going if he saw Selina's face. 

“Does anyo -” 

“No. No one knows.” Dick cut her off, his tongue coming out to wet his lips nervously. 

“Okay.” Several beats went on, and Selina looked like all of the breath had been stolen out of her. “Okay. What the _fuck,_ I...If he was still alive, I’d fucking...I don’t even know. I _miss_ him. So fucking much. I can’t...I don’t know what to think. Now maybe it never even mattered. Because he wanted you.” Selina accused, her eyes blinking rapidly to stave off tears. Her hand on the chair tightened, and she was failing to hide her jealousy. 

“No. He wasn’t going to let himself do it. I never got to. It got better with time, and I didn’t think about it as much anymore. He hurt me. A lot. But I know why he did it.” Dick said softly, blue eyes meeting hard green. 

“Say it. Just fucking say it.” Selina’s eyes sharpen, but her voice was careful. Not obviously disgusted, in the way Dick knows she must be. 

“I want him.” Dick whispers, shrugging his shoulders, trying to lessen the deafening roar that blasted through his ears now that it was out and _real._

Selina darted out of the chair, her sharp nails pressing into Dick’s throat. Fiery green eyes burned as they looked up at him, and her mouth twitched like she could barely keep it together herself. “Richard Grayson. You fucking _bastard._ That is Bruce’s son. He is a _child._ ” 

Dick’s skin burned, every part of his brain screaming to defend himself, to push back. “Do you think I don’t know that? I am aware. And that makes me want him _more._ ” Dick hissed, baring his teeth. Selina gaped, faltering slightly.

“You have no idea what this has done to me. How long I’ve fought this.”

“You’re not, you’re not going to _do_ anything are you? You’re just going to wait, right? Until he’s older? And for real, Dick? How have you fought this? Terrorizing Gotham’s criminals? Leading a terrible example for the very _child_ that you want? This is so fucked, Dick.” Selina let go of Dick’s throat, staggering back. Dick could still feel the sharp imprint of her nails on his throat. She looked queasy, like any mention of any details and she would vomit. Dick swallowed, and pushed his hair back. _Relax. She’s helping. To get better you need to be honest._

“Yes, I mean, I don’t know. I didn’t think about that. I can’t, let him, I. He’s _mine_. The thought of - I can’t let anyone else have him. But I can control myself. It’s just getting harder and harder.” Dick said, his rough baritone filling up the growing space between them. “I’m just not going to push him away. I am going to use the cowl like I should. I know I need to...to deal with this and not ignore it anymore.” 

“I keep wanting to ask myself what Bruce would do, but he’s the same. I thought _I_ lived in a world of greys, but you fucking bats are entirely different. God. Hearing this isn’t worth all the pretty things in the world.” Selina inhaled, hands on her temple. At the mention of “pretty,” Damian popped into Dick’s head, and he bit his tongue. _It just never ended, did it?_

“I know. I just wanted to apologize, and be honest. With someone. Because I can barely do this. But I can do it. I won’t let myself do it. Thank you for trying to help. Truly. I didn’t - I don’t deserve it. Thank you, Selina.” Dick reached out slowly, putting a very light hand on Selina’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure what more they could talk about, without it going terribly, and any longer, details would have to come out, and that wasn’t an option. 

Selina frowned, looking exhausted. “God, I want to hit you right now.” She pursed her lips. “But I’m going to trust you. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t. Maybe....maybe when he’s not so young. But you can’t. He’s just a kid. And he _needs_ you. Don’t abuse that trust. Don’t fuck this up, Dick Grayson.” 

“I know. I don’t want to fuck it up. I’m trying my hardest.” Dick tried a small smile, but it wavered. Selina looked at him sharply, before grabbing her purse on the chair clumsily. 

“Well, fucking try harder. Don’t lose yourself too, little bird. You can’t fail that little one. Do what’s best for _him_ .” Selina said pointedly, her arms shaking. She got up from the chair and headed towards the door. Dick stood up, hands finding his pockets while he watched Selina walk out. He could _see_ the effect their meeting had on her, but he could see that she was trying hard to trust him. Who wouldn't want to believe in his promise? _I want to believe in my promise._ Dick had put her in a bad position, but he still couldn’t tell if it was a mistake or not. “You’re welcome, you dirty fucking bastard. Next time I see you, don’t bite my head off. I’m the only person who knows your fucked little secret, and Brucie wouldn't want us fighting.” Selina’s wavering voice followed her to the door. She looked back at Dick uncertainly, opening her mouth slowly, before she turned to slip out, her long nails disappearing behind dark oak doors. 

The weight of his secret lessened so much just by telling someone. And maybe Selina was right, maybe he should just wait a couple years, and then he could lay claim to Damian. That seemed like a better compromise than the giant red _NEVER_ his mind had branded the idea with. And although they talked about him minimally, the connection with someone who was very close with Bruce felt comforting. He didn’t think he was ready to really delve into that, or talk about anything more that went on or didn’t go on between them, but the connection to someone _outside_ the family, someone that loved Bruce - that was freeing in a way. 

But he knew it was not all good - involving Selina was always a risk, and he didn’t necessarily feel any better about what he needed to do. He had hoped that telling her would make him _really_ care not to mess up, but telling her just felt like he had taken a risk and lied to not fall all the way. _Damn._ It just got harder and harder, every single day, no matter what he did.

Dick stared out the window behind the desk, the white sunlight glittering off the skyscrapers. The Wayne tower loomed over the street below, casting a dark shadow to cut through the light. The dark gray jungle went on below him, and as he watched the smallest passerbys, he wondered if any of them could know stories above there was a monster in a suit. It felt like now that he was stripped of enabling his own violence, and then that he had _told_ someone and it didn’t even lessen his desire…any thought of Damian felt like he was going into battle with no armor. He just hoped he would come out of it human. 

\---

The roar of the Batmobile engine thrummed under Dick’s boots, and he found himself obsessively counting the revolutions before he had to switch gears to turn. Gotham whirred by him, the flood of yellow light outside the black car, and the red glow of the controls illuminated Dick’s shaking fingers on the wheel. He had plans to check out one of the abandoned warehouses near Mooney Bridge, but so far, it didn’t seem like there was anything else pressing that night. His stunt with Penguin’s men had stalled a lot of plans apparently, because news of a feral Batman was spreading like wildfire, and crime was dropping off. He had heard the accounts of the monster he looked like, and in a way, it was good, because there was less crime. But it was the fear that ran through Gotham now, that he didn’t feel like _should_ happen. That, and it had provided for very empty and awkward patrol nights with Damian. 

Damian hadn’t said a word to him since that day in Wayne Enterprises. He still listened to Dick, still fought just as well with him. Still had his back, still only needed to see Dick’s tilt of his head and know exactly what he needed to do. And it felt like just months ago, when Dick had to coax him out of his shell again, but this one felt different. He knew no matter how many times he smiled, or told a shitty joke, or ruffled his hair, that Damian wasn’t going to take it anymore. And he _hated_ it. He was more naked than ever, curbing his violent urges, practically bare to Damian’s devotion, but it didn’t even matter because Damian wouldn’t really look at him. 

Dick took a sharper turn than necessary, almost wanting Damian to swear at him and just say _something._ Dick had come to hearing in his head what Damian would say, to fill the damn silence that gaped between them. Like _Grayson, you idiot, I could drive better with all my limbs tied back_ or something like that that once made him grit his teeth in irritation, but now made him feel warm inside. Not that Damian would even look at him anymore. Damian shifted methodically with the turn, looking perfectly unruffled, his dark face looking out the window. His green boots were placed stiffly on the floor beneath, his posture echoing Bruce’s military form. _Damn it._ Dick sighed. He pushed the cowl back and glanced over at Damian. 

“Okay. Let’s talk, little prince.” 

Damian ignored him, taking special interest in the passing buildings. The only indication he had even heard Dick was the smallest tightening of his jaw. 

“We can’t _not_ talk. I miss you. I’m trying to figure this all out, and I need you to _understand_ that. It’s not easy.” Silence met Dick’s ears. Dick bit the inside of his cheek angrily. 

“Alright, fine. We can _really_ talk. Let’s talk about that night. Do you want to know what I really think about it? I absolutely loathe that you did that. That you almost _died_ for me. I have never been more scared in my entire fucking life. I was furious with you. And most of all, furious with _myself,_ because I had pushed you away for months and then I almost lost you. I love you more than I can even say, Damian. And that’s _fucked._ But I can’t live without you here with me. So I’m trying to find a way where I can keep you close without crossing that line. It’s my duty as your protector to not take advantage of you. If you still feel the same for me in a couple years, I guarantee you that I will be waiting for you. It’s taking me a lot to even say that. Okay?” 

“Lies.” Damian rasped, his raw voice startling Dick. “You’ll never let me have you. It disgusts you. You weave your pitiful lies with your twisted sense of morality, and you wear it every day as if you’re doing what’s right. No. You know what would be _right?_ ” Damian snapped, turning to look at Dick. His green gloves tightened on his thigh, his muscles straining. Dick stared at him, distantly hoping that he didn’t crash the car. Dick’s multitasking had always been good, but Damian had never done well with divided attention. 

“What would be _right,_ is if you actually made me yours. If you actually _took_ me, when all I have done is wait for you to do so. If you stopped giving me these halfway assurances that mean nothing, that hurt me more than anything, and actually _care_ about me. When I have _no_ one. But _no_ . Instead, you look at me and want me, and then you turn and bash your fist through some lowlife’s skull because you’re so disgusted. Well, Richard, how do you think that makes _me_ feel?” Damian’s voice broke, and he pulled his legs up, turning his head away. Dick caught the passing reflection of Damian’s crying face in the window reflection, and Dick felt his throat close up. Dick looked forward, recognizing they were in East End. Pulling over in the first alleyway he saw, Dick stopped the engine. The silence of the car was misleading, Dick knew, because he just _knew_ how much Damian was crying. Dick looked over, seeing Damian’s spiky hair shake with his controlled sobs. He _did_ that. _I made you like this._ Dick’s chest felt like it was cracking, his stomach dropping and his heart aching. And suddenly, Dick didn’t care about anything other than the fact that _he_ ruined it, had made Damian hurt, when he deserved the world. _You deserve everything._ Dick pulled on Damian’s shoulder, ignoring Damian’s furious snarl, and grabbed him to pull across the console between them. 

Damian sat awkwardly on Dick’s lap, his angry face stained with tears, emerald eyes burning with shame. He avoided looking at Dick, even when black fingers came up to touch Damian’s hot face. It was intoxicating, being that close to Damian, just inches away from his lips. Damian had always been the most passionate person Dick had ever known, and watching that passion come to life in front of him was addicting. He wanted to push and push until he got everything out of Damian, but he knew that there would _always_ be more for him to take and take. Damian was so angry, so hurt, and about something too mature for him to need to ever think about, but Dick couldn’t stop drinking in how _small_ he was; how the pure desperate want to be loved led Damian through everything, and how it always pointed to Dick. A gift, to be on the receiving end, of such loyal, overwhelming devotion. How _foolish,_ to make him feel like he was at fault. That he was not wanted, not _enough._ How could he push Damian away, when all it was doing was slowly breaking Damian? Whatever immoralities were _his_ blame to bear, but he couldn’t do it if it ruined Damian. Damian _needed_ this. _I need this._

The red glow of the console made Damian’s skin darker, and the bright colors of his uniform dim. The alleyway was dark outside, and Dick could barely see the pretty details of Damian’s face he never wanted to stop looking at. Dick leaned forward, his mouth so close to Damian’s pursed lips. 

“You know what? You’re right. You’re completely right. I’ve done everything to not deserve you even more than I already don’t. I should have no business with you, because I don’t deserve you. But you know, darling. I’m tired of that. I’m so fucking tired of it. Because I love you, with my whole soul. And I want to make you smile even if it’s not what I should do.” Dick whispered, licking his lips. Damian’s sharp intake of breath made Dick grin, and he pushed forward to kiss Damian. Damian’s arms immediately went to tighten around Dick’s neck, and Dick couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop drowning in the addiction that was devouring the boy on his lap. His mouth met Dick’s fervently, clumsy but harder than anyone Dick had ever kissed before. Leading him, _owning_ him with his mouth, it made Dick’s blood sing, and his pulse skyrocketed. It felt like all his energy was _finally_ able to come out, more addicting and drowning than his wildest nights out under the dark. _This_ was what he needed to do, this addicting feeling that made him hungry for more but made his heart pump for something good finally. Dick pulled back, panting, his pupils blown wide. Damian choked, drawing deep breaths in. 

“I’m taking you. _Now._ Right here, baby boy. I’m going to take such good care of you. I’m going to show you exactly what I mean.” Dick ground out, flipping Damian to press against the driver’s window. Damian’s face was pressed against the window, Dick’s form looming behind him. Pushing himself up, Dick held Damian tightly, giving himself leverage for what he was about to do. Damian moaned out, his breath coming out so hot and fast, and Dick was almost afraid Damian might pass out. Large black hands circled Damian’s small waist, pressing just right to hear the hiss of his belt opening, letting Dick drag his pants down. Damian’s legs started shaking, his small muscled legs working hard to keep him pressed up tightly against the window like Dick had pushed him to be. Dick worked to free himself, the suit not really meant to allow him to expose himself like that. 

“That’s right, little prince. Keep yourself nice and ready for me. I know you can do it.” Dick grunted, fingers flying to find the lube in his utility belt. It had been _eons_ since he used his utility belt lube for anything like this, but Dick didn’t care, he just knew that he needed it to make this work. Slicking up two black fingers, Dick eyed Damian, and couldn’t help the flare of hungry excitement that it really just looked like he was too small, too innocent. Damian hissed as soon as Dick’s fingers pressed insistently at his hole, but he pushed back, Dick watching the strain he was putting his body through to please Dick. 

“Hurry the fuck up, I know you want me. _Do_ it.” Damian said brattily, and Dick pushed his fingers in hard to hear Damian’s loud moan. 

Damian turned his head against the glass, his fast pants fogging up the car, and Dick could finally see his face. His brow was furrowed in pain or concentration or both, and his emerald eyes locked onto Dick’s wild face. It was so _terrible,_ but so _beautiful_ to watch himself opening Damian up, fingers scissoring to open him up so he can even try and stick his cock in that tight heat. Dick’s was harder than he’d ever been, but he needed to make sure that Damian could physically take him.

Damian whimpered out Dick’s name, and Dick’s cock twitched. _Okay, fuck that._ “You’re ready, you’re ready. I’m going to fuck you so hard, little prince. I’m going to ruin you.” Dick growled, already losing it. He should be going _slow,_ making it so this was gentle for Damian, but he couldn’t - he needed it _now._ He was too big, pushing against Damian too hard, making it too difficult for Damian to relax, but Dick couldn’t care. Dick barely caught the twisted face of Damian, mostly excited and a little bit fearful. But he still pushed back, his back bending to press himself against the glass and present his ass to Dick, ready to be taken. Dick spread Damian’s ass, hand guiding his cock in, pushing hard to get in. Small shallow thrusts gave way to deeper, less controlled thrusts, as Dick worked himself in. Damian’s cries got louder, and Dick felt rabid. Snapping his hips forward, Dick held on to Damian’s hips, needing to drive deeper and deeper in - nothing had ever felt so _good,_ and hearing Damian’s moans drove him faster. 

Green gloves splayed out wide to push back, and Damian’s tunic was pushed up high up his back, leaving his rippling muscles for Dick to see. Dick drove into Damian, the lewd sound of their bodies meeting nothing compared to the slick sound of Dick’s cock sinking deep into Damian. Dick’s skin burned, every thought of his was wired to wanting to hear Damian be louder, wanting to hear him scream, wanting to make him come, wanting to see _his_ come fill Damian up. 

“ _Fuck_ me,” Damian keened. “ _Take_ me.” 

“I’m gonna fill you up. Talk so much, but you’re just _my_ little prince, my little innocent boy. Fucking ruining you, baby. Making you _only_ want me. Just _me._ Because you’re _only_ mine.” Dick hissed, leaning down to mouth at Damian’s jawline. 

Damian started whimpering, his stomach lurching. Dick ground deep in Damian, finding a spot that made Damian spasm, and Dick reached underneath to stroke his cock. Damian cried out, his loud throaty sounds filling the car, and Dick enjoyed it more than he should, how _small_ he was, how easy it was to wrap his hand around Damian’s cock. 

“Come for me, darling. Let _go,_ I’m gonna fill you up.” Dick urged, his voice breaking between thrusts. Damian shook his head furiously, his flushed face sweaty. 

“No, want to - want to _with_ you, please, want to _with_ you,” Damian whined out, his arms going back to grab at however much of Dick that he could, trying to pull him in closer. Dick bit into Damian’s shoulder, sucking hard, already feeling the clench of his stomach just at the thought of finishing together. _My stubborn boy. Mine. All mine._ Dick stroked Damian’s cock roughly, other hand pulling hard on Damian’s hips to meet his thrusts. 

“Tell me, tell me you -” Dick ground out, needing to hear it before he let go. 

“I _only_ love you. Forever, it’s _only_ you, ah, fuck, _my_ beloved.” Damian moaned, promising. Dick grit his teeth, driving in as hard as he could, pushing Damian hard against the glass, and he sped up his strokes of Damian’s cock. As soon as Damian’s cock pulsed, and Dick felt the hot spurt of come through his kevlar gloves, he let himself go with a grunt. Damian’s wanton moan filled Dick’s ears, and he chanted Damian’s name through his orgasm. Dick’s cock twitched one last time in Damian, and Dick groaned in Damian’s ear. Dick leaned his head against Damian’s sweaty head, watching in his peripheral Damian’s eyes try to focus. Damian’s hands found the glass again, and Dick placed his much larger hand over Damian’s. The car was hot and steamy, the window completely fogged up. Dick covered all of Damian’s back, his cape enveloping both of them. Damian intertwined their fingers, looking down at them. Dick watched him. 

Suddenly, Damian slid down the glass, his legs buckling, and Dick’s hand shot down to hold him up. Pulling back, Dick watched mesmerized, as his come spilled out of Damian’s sore ass. Damian looked back, his hooded emerald eyes blazing. He looked so _gorgeous,_ thoroughly fucked, and so pretty that Dick felt like he couldn’t be real. Damian pushed off the glass, wrapping his arms around Dick’s middle, and holding tight. His pants were still down to his ankles, his uniform all sorts of fucked up, and thick come dripped down between his thighs. 

“I _told_ you we were meant to be, beloved. I _told_ you that you were all I wanted.” Damian’s muffled voice made Dick’s brain kick back into gear. _Fuck._ Dick’s chest felt so _whole,_ so truly fulfilled, that he couldn’t even imagine how he had pushed this vision before him away. For any depth of hell, for anything, he would pick this boy. 

“You were right.” Dick said softly, tightening his hold around Damian’s small form. He sat awkwardly on the middle console, one leg bracing his weight, his black cape covering the seats. Damian sat back, unashamed in the way only he could be, pants down, come dripping out, looking just as confident as he always did. 

“Mine.” Damian said accusingly, his hand coming up to hold tightly at Dick’s front. The glow from a distant lamp made the right side of Damian’s face look a little softer, his intense jade eyes already glittering more than they usually did. Dick brought his hand to guide Damian’s hand up to his own throat, letting Damian tighten his grip around his jugular. Bringing his gauntlet up to Damian’s throat, Dick pulled him forward to rest on his forehead. 

“Mine.” Dick echoed, his much larger grip dwarfing Damian’s throat. Dick could feel the way Damian’s heartbeat picked up, and the boy swallowed loudly.

_It was just meant to be_ . Dick knew he shouldn’t just feel euphoric, fuck, he had reason to go to hell. But looking in Damian’s eyes, at the blatant devotion he held only for Dick - Dick knew this was a blessing only he could take, but only if he was selfish enough. The chasm of emptiness, the dark pit of being alone, was going to break him, and it was a lot less incredible than losing himself to Damian. _Fuck Selina. Fuck everything else. Fuck anything that isn’t you._ It was just them. Maybe it was always that way, but _finally,_ Dick met Damian’s gaze back. No more of his shitty halfway promises. If he was going to hell, he would go with his hands around Damian’s neck, his heart entwined with his. Because it was _worth_ it. Damian was _always_ worth it. Dick knew it in his bones. 

“You’re all I need.” Dick said honestly, and the possessive smile Damian wore made Dick crash forward to kiss him again. The rest of the night could wait - because _he_ was done waiting. He was done with _everything_ else - he didn’t want to leave Damian’s touch for a second. Dick ignored how much of a cognitive dissonance it looked like in the window’s reflection to see him engulfing Damian’s smaller form. Because of the glint in Damian’s eyes, the way he grinned happier than Dick had ever seen him, and the way Dick felt like he was falling harder and harder each second he let his caged love _free_..well. 

The difference between what was _good_ and what _felt_ good had never been bigger. But nothing had ever felt more right. 

Damian held Dick’s face close, his happiness pouring off in waves. Dick smiled, blue eyes meeting emerald. _I’ll go to hell with my hands tied around your neck, my heart beating for you._

“I know.” Damian said softly, his mouth twitching up. “I know, beloved.” Dick closed the gap, this insatiable hunger he had for this boy needing to _take_ again, to _feel_ the love between them, to _return_ the love Damian had given him so truly. _Mine._

The car filled with moans, the windows fogging up again, and Gotham waited for its Batman and Robin to rove the dark night again, together. 

\--- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright!! sooo, I hope you liked it! It was super fun to take a crack at dark dick batman, but like I said before, this was a dumb little story on that era. one day i want to do a full out one, one more like my fic Make Me Yours in its depth, because it's such an incredible era and I feel like I really only scratched the surface of potential for it. probably set over a longer period of time, and all that good tortured content, you know how it be. either way, I hope you enjoyed!! it was a fun little story on the journey to get better at writing. next thing I'm thinking of is pretty angsty....so keep an eye out for that! 
> 
> as always, comments are so appreciated and I am so so very thankful to my readers. i am a whore for validation, yall keeps me going >:) if you want to catch me on [ my twitter](https://twitter.com/disgruntledwing) or [ my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/disgruntledwing) , you know where I am! I post art as well (lot of Damian centric recently), and follow a lot of really awesome fic/art mutuals who you gotta check out too. anyways, take care! until the next sinful post ;)


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